A Knight's Tale
by ACDiNosey
Summary: Following a major incident and a chance encounter, Sir Leon's life is turned upside down. Pure Sir Leon fic with a few scenes with the rest of Camelot.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi All, **

**This story is came to me while I was hanging out at my favourite tavern, drinking heavily and talking about red cloaks and knights in shining armour. It is all about Sir Leon, so, no reveal, no Merthur and no fight to save Camelot and the evil M sisters or King Cenred...**

**It's a present to my fellow Leonettes and in particular to BM, for endless supplies of mead, shots, cupcakes, pancakes and stews. **

**I'll update as and when I get the chance, but I can't guarantee prompt updates, so please, please, be patient.**

**Hope you enjoy it.**

Upon opening the door, Sir Leon scrunched up his nose. The place was even dirtier and smellier than usual. The flicker of the candles hid the grime that was covering the walls and handfuls of saw dust generously applied to the floor drank in the spilt drink, obliterating the sweet stench of rotting food and fermenting beer. He waved his men in, leading them to one of the greasy tables cramped in the available space.

The Rising Sun had never been Sir Leon's favourite alehouse, but the day had been long and the young knights deserved a night out. The hunt for a hoard of brigands in the Darkling Woods had been a success, although Sir Golwen had died in the fight and the young Erimen had lost an eye at the hands of one of these vicious outlaws. Although the bandits would now rot forever more out of sight in the dark and dank dungeons of the castle, Sir Leon couldn't help but reflect on the physical and mental scars knights were made to bear nowadays. He had known from the start that a knight's career was short and not so sweet, and only through a strong sense of duty, relentless loyalty to the Pendragon family and eagerness to maintain his physical ability had he been able to stay alive long enough to lead his own squadron and earn a slightly more sheltered position as Arthur's second in command.

Signing to one of the serving maids, he ordered tankards of mead for his men, and took out dice out of his small leather purse, hoping that his unruly crew would soon be too engrossed in a good game to remember the horrors of the battle. He couldn't help but feeling a twinge of envy at the carefree ways of youth, and a certain sadness at the thought that so many of the lives in his hands wouldn't make it through another winter if another war was declared with one of the neighbouring kingdoms.

He looked around as the golden mead flowed into the dirty wooden tankards. While the establishment was grimy and of dubious reputation, it was obvious why it was Camelot's favourite hideout for the knights. The innkeeper had an exquisite taste as far as serving maids were concerned. All were fresh young maidens, probably taken out of their farms in the outlying villages of the kingdom and thrown into this dingy existence in order to earn a living and lessen the burden they represented for their peasant families.

While a couple of the serving girls were known to be of little virtue and often seen heading to one of the rooms at the back with less than recommendable people, most of them were righteous girls and refrained from engaging in conversation with the drunks and other coarse patrons of the inn. He smiled looking at one of the newest recruits, a young woman about three years younger than him, dark wavy hair carefully tied in a bun, revealing a think and gracious neck perched on top of wide but elegant shoulders. She bent forward slightly to fit her hands under the heavy tray of tankards and walked towards the knights' table, tankards shaking lightly as she struggled to make her way between the tables. She was only about three yards away when an uncouth, fat and oily man grabbed her woollen skirt and starting fumbling and groping. The maid jumped at the unwelcome touch, spilling some of the sweet mead onto the floor.

"Ahh, come here sweetheart" rudely called the man. The young woman averted her deep blue gaze and tried to wrestle, but his horrible hands grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her, so that she fell onto his lap, dropping the tray and drenching her in mead in the process. In spite of her best attempts to keep composure, she started crying as he seized her face in his hands in an attempt to steal a kiss from her. Just as he was about to place his drunken lips on her, a strong hand grabbed him by the collar and threw him on the floor.

"That's enough, now, commoner" asserted Sir Leon. Two of his young knights rose at once, hands on their swords, but the knight lifted his palm to them, urging them to avoid a display of weapons but to remain on their guard in case a fight broke out.

He left the commoner to struggle back on his feet and moved swiftly to the maid who had crumpled on the floor, crouching to her level.

"Are you alright?" He asked as quietly and softly as he could, so as to not embarrass the servant further but to ensure she would not cower away from him.

The young woman nodded, and found herself lifted from the floor by two reassuring arms, upon which she flattened her skirt in an attempt to regain composure.

From the back of the room, Sir Leon heard the innkeeper shout: "This will be taken out of your wages, stupid girl". The maid sighed, lowering her gaze to her hands, clasping the wet fabric in her small hands.

Sir Leon grabbed the commoner up and led him forcibly to the door, before whispering threateningly. "I would leave quietly while you have the chance; I've got ten knights on standby should you decide to try anything of the sort again".

As the man left, Sir Leon turned round, realising that the room had gone very quiet. Hell, that peasant was going to cost him dearly.

"Enough! He smiled. Let's have some fun now. Innkeeper, tankards of mead for all, please!"

The innkeeper rubbed his hands together. If the knights were enticed by the nice ladies on display, they were well worth their wages, as a knight's night out was a sure sign of a profitable evening.

Sir Leon strode back to his table to pat the shoulder of one of the knights who had stood behind him, and to share a couple of quick jibes before striding to the bar.

"Roland", he called toward the man behind the counter, curling his fingers to intimate him to come closer. Roland came closer, dishcloth in hand, and bent his chest forward to hear Sir Leon. The latter turned towards the crowd, casting a glance at the waitress who had now resumed her duties, apparently no worse for wear. He swivelled back slowly, untying the purse that hung at his belt, and opening it in front of the innkeeper.

"How much do I owe you for the round, Roland?" he asked.

"Two gold coins, Sire, best value in the whole of Camelot", Roland answered gregariously.

"I'm not sure about that" Leon smiled back before continuing in a lower voice. "And how much for the spilt tray?"

Roland recoiled slightly. "Ah, no sire, this is on the house..."

"Not if this young maid of yours is going to pay for it, Roland."

Roland squirmed uneasily. "That was just for show, Sire, just for show..."

"I doubt so, Roland." Leon's piercing eyes met with those of the keen owner. "How much for her drinks?" He repeated, gesturing in the direction of the girl.

"Another gold coin, sire." He paused for a moment before adding. "She's a pretty one, isn't she, sire? I guess there's not one more pretty in the whole of Camelot, other than the Lady Morgana of course."

Sir Leon barely acknowledged the repartee and the dark meaning barely disguised in it. Grabbing his purse from the counter, he tightened the strings and hung it back onto his belt, issuing a quiet warning to the innkeeper:

"You'll have your money when I leave, Roland, provided you keep your greasy paws off those girls. And don't think I haven't seen what you're up to with Mellie and Iona. I urge you to put an end to it quickly, or I will find myself compelled to raise the matter with the king. Knights abide by a strict code of conduct, and I won't let my squadron be enticed by your girls' lurid ways.

The rest of the evening went quietly, as Leon listened to the immature chatter of his youngest knights and shared more than one tankard with the older, wiser knights, watching them play with the dice he had had the good idea to bring.

Soon, the tavern found itself empty of any patron, other than Sir Leon and Sir Edwin who had stayed for one last tankard of mead. The girls were now cleaning the tables and placing the benches on top of those, readying the place for the night. Mellie and Iona had gone upstairs to their quarters. Alone, Sir Leon contemplated with an incredulous smirk. The other girls, who lived away from the tavern in the lower town, were leaving one by one.

Sir Edwin finished his mug, and stood, asking Leon whether they would walk back to their quarters together. The knight, older by three winters, had noticed Sir Leon's sullen mood. He knew Sir Leon wanted some time alone to reflect on the day and didn't insist when he answered.

"No, go back to the castle. I'll foot the bill and make my way back in a minute. Leon drew himself back towards the bar, and dropped the promised three gold coins, plus another one for other refreshments that had been shared throughout the evening.

The night engulfed him. It was new moon, and only the stars lit the narrow streets of the lower town. Leon found that the darkness and silence surrounding him mirrored his inner disposition. The loss of a knight may have been mundane to King Uther, but Leon couldn't help but feel the sting of guilt and helplessness every time it occurred. Over time, he had come to realise that, as far as lives were concerned, Uther attached as little value to those of his knights as he did to those of hs servants and subjects. He was dispensable, and the thought didn't sit well with him.

At barely thirty years of age, he still had so much to experience. Life in Camelot was good, and knights were respected, but it left little time for anything else, and little company, other than that of younger fellow knights, who came and went too fast to forge lasting friendship. On reflection, his present life was not that dissimilar to that of a monk, or maybe a hermit, but much more dangerous.

Deep in thought, Leon did not see the shadow that hovered behind him, from one side of the street to the other. All of a sudden, he felt a sharp sting in his right thigh, which quickly turned into a searing pain. He barely had time to let out a scream that is attacker withdrew the dagger than had pierced him and lifted it again towards the sky, preparing to apply his coup de grace.

Slumping onto his injured leg, Sir Leon found himself unable to draw his sword, thus unable to defend himself. Knowing he was but a second from death, he stood still, waiting for the blow to end it all when he was irreverently pushed sideways, away from the blow.

A barely audible squeal broke the silence of the blade travelling through mid-air followed by a fierce, guttural roar and a thump, as a body hit the wall. Then everything fell silent again. Lights lit up in nearby houses, faces appeared at windows, only to disappear moments later. Uther had trained his citizens well.

"Sire, can you hear me?" A shadow loomed over the injured knight.

Leon could feel blood gushing rhythmically out of his leg and pooling under him, covering his hip and back. He slapped his face in an attempt to shake off the black clouds that formed in front of his eyes, but the blood loss impaired his consciousness, leaving him to the mercy of the shadows.

"Sire, I'm sorry I've got to staunch the blood flow..." A rip tore through the air and the knight felt pressure applied to the ocean of pain born from his leg. "Sorry, sorry, sire, I... It just won't stop, I... I need to get you back to the castle. I'll be back in a second."

The shadow disappeared, leaving Leon to drown into the darkness. It was a lovely night to die, starry skies above beckoning, inviting him to close his eyes and fall asleep to never wake again. A slap in the face brought him back to his predicament.

"I'm so sorry Sire, I didn't mean... Sire, I need you to help me, I've got a cart to carry you to the castle but I can't..." Sobs broke through the night as frail arms grabbed Leon's chest and pulled him upwards against the edge of the cart. Leon mustered all the strength and energy he could and hoisted himself onto the cart, before losing consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to all who read the first chapter. I know Sir Leon's not everyone's cup of tea! Anyway, here's a double chapter to make up for it, featuring the court of Camelot. Enjoy!**

The two sentries at the front gate loved their night shift. With the curfew in place, no one ever came through the gates at night and, by taking it in turn to lean against the wall, one could actually get a decent night's sleep on the job.

The night had started quietly as usual, until, in the depth of the night, the rumbling of a wooden cart clattering against the cobblestones alerted both sentries to the arrival of a not so discreet intruder.

"Who's there?" shouted one of the guards. They both drew their sword to pre-empt any attack.

"Please help me."

The torches hanging from the sides of the gate cast their flames onto the surrounding darkness, slowly revealing the form that had previously been eaten by the shadows. The sentries' eyes opened in disbelief as a woman pulling a cart appeared in front of them.

"Please, help me." She repeated her plea.

"You shouldn't be out at this hour my dear. Go back to your home. There's no business for you here."

"No, you don't understand..." Swords forward, both sentries advanced towards her. "No, don't! It's Sir Leon; he's been attacked in the lower town. He's bleeding too much. I couldn't... He needs help...Fast..."

The young woman fell on her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. The sentries approached cautiously, swords pointing forward in case the woman only acted as a decoy.

"Melvin, it IS Sir Leon. Go get Gaius at once."

Gaius stood straight as the door creaked on its hinges, making way for the bright flickering light of the torch gleaming against all the bottles and glass jars in his chambers.

"What is it? Who's there?"

"It's just me, Melvin. Gaius, you're needed immediately at the main gate. It's Sir Leon. He's bleeding out."

A dazed Gaius straightens at the last word. He stood at once and proceeded to gather a few supplies in his leather satchel while calling for his ward.

"Merlin!"

"Uhh?" A sleepy dishevelled hair appeared behind the door.

"Go wake Arthur and tell him that Sir Leon has been seriously injured. Then join me at the front gate. I may well need your assistance."

Merlin let out an anxious sigh, which had more to do with the thought of waking Arthur in the night than Sir Leon's welfare. He went back to his bedroom, threw on one of the shirt he had dismissed on the floor the previous night and rushed out of the chambers without so much as a glance towards the guard who stood there.

Even in the flickering light of the torches, it didn't take long for Gaius to realise how serious Sir Leon's injury was. Blood was generously seeping underneath a crude bandage which had been torn out from the knight's cloak but had been applied too loosely to restrain the blood flow significantly. Gaius needed to act quickly.

He took fresh, clean dressings at of his bag and set to strap the wound up tightly. Just as he was done, Merlin and Arthur came rushing out of the castle's front door.

"How is he?" immediately enquired Arthur.

"He's lost an awful lot of blood, sire. He needs to be taken to his chambers immediately."

"Fine, Merlin, fetch a stretcher in the guard tower." Merlin nodded and disappeared in the night. Turning towards the sentries, Arthur asked: "Has anybody witnessed the attack?"

Melvin, who had hurried back with Gaius to resume his duties, pointed to a small pile of dirty rags, which on closer inspection turned out to be a young woman huddled up against the wheel of the cart she had brought with her.

He face was as pale as Sir Leon and her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. She wiped them dismissively before standing and curtsying as the Prince approached. As he addressed her, she bowed her head respectfully.

"The guard said you saw what happened?"

"Yes, Your Highness." Her eyes remained screwed to the floor, but Arthur noticed small drops falling to the ground, dispersing minute amounts of dirt as they landed. Her hands kept scrubbing her dirty skirt. Hell, the skirt wasn't dirty, Arthur suddenly realised, it was caked in blood. Gaius's statement sounded more and more like an understatement.

Merlin had come back with the stretcher and Sir Leon was quickly transported to his chambers with Gaius in tow.

"The king needs to be informed of the situation" the Prince stated loudly. "You", he pointed at the woman "Come with me. You will tell the king exactly what happened." She cowered away as he came closer. "Do not worry; the king will be grateful for you saved the life of one of his best knights. Your actions will not go unrewarded."

Arthur grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards the castle entrance. They made their way through corridors before stopping in front of huge double doors.

"You stay here", ordered Arthur. "I will fetch the king and ask for an audience on your behalf. I will be back soon".

The young woman waited for what seemed for a long time, watching as the early morning bustle of the caste unwound in front of her eyes. What a strange night it had been. She had been assaulted at work, had rescued a knight, talked to the Prince and would now be presented to the king. As the sun came over the horizon, its rays hit the windows of the corridor in which she was stood, and flooded the place with bright, white light. That was when she realised how bad she looked. She shook her head in despair. This was no way to meet the king. What impression would she give in this attire?

A couple of male servants walked past, barely noticing her before a maid carrying a jug of light ale and a plate of meats and cheese stopped in front of her.

"Are you alright?" She enquired.

The young woman nodded back.

"Have you been made to wait here?"

She nodded again before being thoroughly inspected by the maid's dark brown eyes.

"What's happened?"

She was saved from answering by Prince Arthur, striding back towards them.

"That will be all, Guinevere. Please take this jug to the king's table now." Turning towards the stranger, he added, "The king will receive you now".

The heavy wooden doors to the main hall opened behind her. As she turned round, she couldn't help but admire the lavish architecture of the hall. She had never seen a room as big, nor as beautiful. Banners hanged from the arched ceiling and the floor was paved with the finest, most ornate tiles she had ever seen. At the end of the Great Hall, the king sat at a long beautifully carved table. The Lady Morgana was sat to his right, and another chair lied vacant to his left, where Prince Arthur should have sat.

Said Prince place his hand on her shoulder to push her gently forward, and noticed her recoiling slightly with a wince as he did so. "Don't worry", he murmured kindly, "you will be fine".

As she walked forward in the hall, she realised that the whole court had been summoned, as she recognised some of the knights that had attended the tavern the previous evening.

"Come hither, child" ordered the king.

She stepped forward, head bowed in respect and stood silently in front of her sovereign, aware that all eyes were set on her.

"I understand we have you to thank for Sir Leon's life."

"I only did what I thought was my duty, Your Highness." Her head and shoulders bowed further down in front of Uther, so far forward a gust of wind would have toppled her forward effortlessly.

"What is your name, child", Uther continued.

"Ardena."

Sir Edwin let out a gasp. Under the dishevelled hair, bloody hands and dirty face, lied the deep blue eyes that he had admired the night before whilst the young woman calmly and placidly cleaned the dirty tables at the tavern. He thought of stepping forward to assist, but refrained, remembering that he had left Sir Leon behind, alone, at the mercy of his attacker and that king Uther may not be so benevolent as to forget this fact.

"So, Ardena, would you care to explain how you came to bring Sir Leon to us last night?"

Ardena sighed, her eyes heavy through lack of sleep and physical exhaustion. She closed her eyelids, remembering the events as they unfolded, etched inside her mind.

"I was on duty at the Rising Sun tavern last night, Your Highness. Sir Leon had stayed behind to pay for the drinks and left as we closed for the night. I left shortly afterwards and noticed Albedion, who works at the stone quarry. He had caused trouble at the tavern and Sir Leon had thrown him out to avoid anybody getting into a fight." She didn't want to enter into too much detail. After all, the king would have little interest in bar brawls and other matters of the commoners.

"I'm sure your knights will confirm this, Your Highness". She continued, as Uther spotted Sir Edwin nodding in agreement. "Albedion was hiding behind the barrels that had been left in front of the tavern and, before I had time to warn him, he stabbed Sir Leon in the leg." She lifted her eyes up. The king was watching her intently, listening to her every word. "I ran towards them. Sir Leon had collapsed on his sword and was unable to draw his sword. Albedion was about to inflict a mortal stab wound to his back or his neck, so I pushed Sir Leon aside and grabbed Albedion's arms."

Gwen, who was pouring some ale into the Lady Morgana's cup, raised her eyebrows in astonishment. This was a brave girl, for sure.

"And what happened to this Albedion, child?"

"He attacked me, Your Highness. I tried to stab me. I managed to get hold of his dagger and I..." Her shoulders shuddered suddenly, as her throat constricted and she willed her tears away. "I'm afraid I killed him, Your Highness. Unless someone has found him and taken him somewhere else, he still lies dead about fifty yards upstream of the tavern, with a dagger planted in his heart."

She knelt on the cold floor of the Great Hall, her whole body shaking as she noticed the cold air for the first time since she left the tavern. "I place myself at your mercy, Your Highness. You may dispose of me as you wish." After all, she had killed a man, and in her mind, this was a crime that the king as unlikely to forget.

She was therefore surprised when Uther asked her: "And what happened afterwards? I am led to believe that Sir Leon was brought to the castle gate. This is a long way from the tavern."

"Yes." She answered subserviently. "Sir Leon was bleeding a lot, and barely conscious. I ripped some bandages from his cloak and tried to staunch the bleed, but I couldn't get them tight enough. I tried to call neighbours to help, but, because of the curfew, no one wanted to be seen out at this time of the night. I ran to the blacksmith's which is but a street away, and borrowed a small wooden cart. With his help, I managed to lift Sir Leon onto it but he lost consciousness soon afterwards. I thought his best chance would be to reach the castle as soon as possible, so I dragged the cart all the way up to the main gate, and asked for help."

Ardena had not noticed how bemused most of her audience was. This young woman had gone far beyond her duty and risked her life to save a knight. Although his demeanour remained composed, Arthur was impressed at the young woman's selfless bravery. He glanced at Guinevere and exchanged a quick smile with her. She too, had gone beyond the call of duty for no less than the first knight in Camelot and, whilst both women looked very different from each other, they seemed to share more than one trait of character, which would one day, make them precious allies for Camelot.

Silence had dragged on for a bit too long, as Uther pondered over the situation. He suddenly addressed the court physician, who had just appeared through a side door behind the main table.

"Gaius, how is Sir Leon faring?"

"He has survived the night, Sire, which is a good sign." The old man looked at the king uneasily for a moment before adding. "He has lost a lot of blood as the stab wound to his leg cut through a main artery. I managed to stop the bleed and sew him up cleanly. The next day or two will be critical. If he survives the blood loss and no infection develops, then I have hopes that he may recover."

Uther remains silent a while longer, rubbing his mouth from side to side with his forefinger, deep in thought. Finally, he rose to his feet.

"Rise up, Ardena." The young woman stood to her feet, swaying slightly through sheer exhaustion.

"You have served your king exceedingly well. You will not be charged for Albedion's murder, as your quick actions may have saved his victim's life. I will see that his body is retrieved and the cart returned to his owner. In the meantime, my son's servant will take you to the kitchen so you may be given some breakfast, and Morgana's maid will fetch you some clothes to change into."

Arthur was bewildered at his father's lack of magnanimity: "Father, shouldn't she be rewarded for her actions?"

Uther looked back at his son, his brow creasing in anger, before spitting out: "She has killed a man, Arthur, and for this she has been granted a royal pardon. This is reward enough for her actions. Now please come and sit for breakfast. Council is dismissed."

As the knights broke out noisily and went about their business, Ardena found herself standing alone in the middle of the Great Hall, ignored by all around, not knowing what to do or where to go.

A friendly hand got hold of hers, and as, she turned round, she saw Arthur's manservant smiling kindly at her.

"Shall we get to the kitchens and get you something to eat?"

She had been sat by the fire in the physician's chambers for about an hour when Gwen came in, carrying a bowl of water, some white cloths and a simple but nice servant's dress. The manservant, Merlin was his name, had taken good care of her, recounting stories from his home town of Ealdor, which wasn't so far from Elthiren, where she came from. She made him laugh by insisting on calling him sire, although he kept insisting that he was just a servant. Surely the Crown Prince's personal aide was as important as any knight of the kingdom? Her mother had taught her well and, even though she may not be able to see her right now, she still wanted to do her proud.

The servant girl put the bowl of water on the table, and smiled at her. She was the same girl who had talked to her while she was waiting in front of the Great Hall. She smiled back. Merlin discreetly left the room on the pretence he had to go assist Gaius with Sir Leon's care.

"So, shall we get you wash up and cleaned" said Gwen in a friendly way. "Let me help you with your clothes".

Ardena recoiled as the maid approached. "No, I will do so myself if you don't mind."

Gwen smiled and shrugged, turning over to the table to soak some of the white cloths she had brought with her in the warm water. "As you wish. You know, I can't believe the king didn't offer you any reward for the service you rendered him. Sir Leon is greatly appreciated in Camelot and as close and loyal an aid to the king as you will ever find."

"I seek no reward" a sad voice answered her.

Gwen turned back and started washing the blood off the young woman. "I can't even believe you managed to bring him back to the castle on your own."

Ardena shrugged and winced as Gwen brushed over her arm. She realised blood on her arm wasn't washing off and lifted the cloth slowly. The cut underneath was deep and wide, and must almost have gone down to the bone. "How did you get this?"

Ardena bent her head down and closed her eyes. Her mouth remained shut, so Gwen decided not to push the matter further. "Nobody's bothered to check you were alright when you brought Sir Leon in? Well, at least let me fetch Gaius so that he may..."

"No!" The girl's head jolted up. "No, please don't call the physician. I cannot afford his treatments and..."

"Well, I'm sure he wouldn't charge you for the service" Gwen tried to temper her.

"No, he does not owe me anything, and I wish not to be in his debt. If you would be so kind as to help me bound the wound, I will tend to it myself."

Gwen sighed heavily, but obeyed. She could not force Ardena to seek treatment. Taking her time, she bound the wound then proceeded to wash her hair, removing all trace of the night's attack. The girl was unusually pretty, and, had she wealthier or noble, would have attracted a lot of attention from the knights and neighbouring princes. She turned round to fetch the dress she had brought to replace the blood stained clothes.

Ardena looked at the dress as if in horror. Gwen frowned. "What's the matter? You do not like it?"

"No, it's fine. It's just... I cannot repay it.". Gwen smiled. The young woman was sweet, but very naive. She reminded her very much of Merlin when he first arrived, and conjectured that the girl was probably from the countryside. So many young people were pouring into the city nowadays, in an attempt to make a life for themselves. She counted herself lucky for having found a place as a servant in the castle.

"Don't worry, you can have it and keep it, it is just a servant's dress."

"But who will pay for it?"

"It does not matter, I will make another one to replace it, and no one will know."

Ardena shook her head. This would just not do. Gwen sighed. "Well, why don't you put it on for now? I will come and see you to get it back in a couple of week, so you'll have time to get this one washed and dried." She pointed at the dirty dress on the floor.

Ardena smiled sadly. "Thank you". She changed into the clean dress, wrapping the cord belt around her thin waste, flattening the creases of the skirt with her hands.

Gwen was pleased with the results. She smiled kindly at the woman. "Is there anything else I can do for you before you leave."

Ardena stood up, looking uneasily through the window behind her, as if not daring to ask.

"If you do not tell me, I cannot help you" Gwen offered, taking Ardena's cold hand. The young woman looked up, hopeful.

"Do you think you could take me to see how Sir Leon is faring?"

Surprised by the request, Gwen placed her free hand onto her mouth. Uther would not approve, but he needn't be told and, after all, this would only take a moment. The servant dress would prove very useful in disguising Ardena's identity, Gwen thought as she closed the door to Gaius's chambers.

Through the corridors they both walked, then thin gowns swishing in the same rhythm. Nobody seemed to notice Ardena in her maid's outfit. Indeed, new servants came and went so fast one never knew them all. At last they entered the knights' quarters, and found themselves at Sir Leon's door. Gwen knocked and proceeded in, waving for Ardena to follow her.

It was obvious at first sight that Sir Leon wasn't an ordinary knight. To start with his had his own chambers, and did not share them with any other knight. The room was quite large, and finely decorated, although not luxuriously. A four-poster bed of simple constitution took about a quarter of the space available and was framed by two small windows that had been covered with fine cloths to screen the light out.

Gaius and Merlin were tending to their charge, hiding him from view. Gwen stepped forward and, placing a hand on Merlin's shoulder, murmured a few words in his hear. His head turned in Ardena's direction and he nodded to her with a smile. Rearranging Sir Leon's bed sheets, he gently elbowed to Gaius, who had already noticed the young woman's presence.

She was so improved from her audience with the king he would not have recognised her had he seem her walk through the castle or in the town. He could see now she was truly a beauty. She held in her air something an elegance rarely seen in commoners, a fair skin barely hardened by the cold weather, and delicate hands slightly battered by their daily toil.

She looked at him with piercing eyes of a striking colour, which reminded him of the seas of Meredor, as he finished administering a drink to the knight.

"How is he?" She asked in a quiet voice as he moved away from the bed and she could see the knight she had so bravely saved.

"I believe he will recover, in due course, although I don't know whether he will ever regain the strength he had in his leg."

She smiled gently, looking at the prone figure in front of her. His body was almost drowned in the width of the bed, his features calm and peaceful. The covers that had been removed to tend his wounds earlier were now chastely covering him up to his chest, while his naked shoulders relaxed into the thick pillows some maids had carefully plumped up from him.

She stays at the foot of the bed for a long moment, her eyes never leaving the serene face of the knight, with this immovable smile etched on her mouth and eyes full of sadness and tears which fell one by one, until she, at last, made her way towards the door.

Holding the door, she turned one last time and whispered: "Your good heart will be your undoing Sir Leon, next time let me pay for the spill." She then closed the door, walked calmly towards the main entrance and disappeared beyond the boundaries of the castle.


	3. Chapter 3

As Gaius had predicted, Sir Leon soon woke up and was declared out of danger, much to the relief of the king, who personally came to congratulate the knight on his recovery. Arthur had temporarily appointed Merlin as Sir Leon's servant, duty which was expected to be performed alongside his normal duties for the Prince. Gwen was assisting any way she could, bringing food and drink to the convalescent and cleaning the room while he lay asleep.

It was a whole three days before Sir Leon could at last relinquish the comfort of his bed for that of a deep chair padded with silk cushions and he now enjoyed sitting up in the chair while Merlin was serving his lunch. Leon was never one to enjoy being served and fussed about, and, occasionally, he would use a pair of crutches Gaius had had made for him and go down to the training fields to watch the knights perform. Gradually, the crutches had become bothersome and, although he hadn't yet resumed active duty, barely a week after the incident they were picking up dust in a corner of his bedroom.

Upon first waking the pain had been unbearable and he had heavily relied upon Gaius' skills to make it through the hours, until the fire subsided. The long hours alone in bed had given him ample time to reflect on his life and the fickleness of it all. That him, one of the strongest and fastest knights in Camelot could be taken down in one blow was a frightening thought. And, when watching young knights die in duty was bad enough, being the one who brushed up with death was all the more upsetting.

Merlin had noticed the knight was once more in one of these cheerless moods that characterised him nowadays. The warlock could not but sympathise with the plight of the knight, having seen and experienced firsthand what he had to contend with on a daily basis. But his role was to ensure his recovery, both moral and physical, and the lunch he was dishing out was just one more excuse to engage in conversation.

"There you go, Sire. I asked them to make it saltier, as you requested yesterday."

"Thank you Merlin" the knight answered absentmindedly. Something was on his mind, Merlin could see, but he was not one to push the knight to express his feelings if he did not wish to. After all, he was just a servant, and whilst overstepping the mark with Arthur was tacitly tolerated, doing so with other knights would have been foolish. However, to his surprise, Sir Leon pursued:

"Merlin, may I ask you something?"

"Of course, Sire."

"How did I make it back to the castle? Who brought me back here?"

Merlin had been apprehensive about this moment for a while. Gaius and the king had very carefully avoided the subject on the grounds that the knight was too weak to be reminded of his ordeal, and, as there was no more to learn about the incident, it was deemed unnecessary to bring it up again. However, the servant knew that Leon would need some answers, and did not look forward to the task of telling him that he had been saved by a woman. After all, all knights had their honour, and although Sir Leon was more tolerant and accommodating than most, there remained that the incident had stung his pride, and that it was about to be badly stung again.

"Ardena, Sire" Merlin commented noncommittally. He could see Sir Leon was trying to remember where he had heard the name before, but failed to recall the events.

"Describe him to me." Merlin stood there, silence building in the room. He went to the bed and carefully set out to replace the bedding.

"Merlin?"

"Sorry sire. I just don't... Well... Ardena was a woman".

Sir Leon frowned. His brow creased intensely, but it was obvious he still couldn't remember.

"She killed your attacker, an Albedion who worked at the stone quarry and brought you back to the main gate, sire". Merlin was being overtly careful about his choice of words, and this didn't escape the notice of the knight. "What is it Merlin?"

"Well, she was brought to the king the morning after your attack, and asked to see you. She just said: "Your good heart will be your undoing Sir Leon, next time let me pay for the spill.", whatever that meant. Gaius was worried it may have been a spell, but we couldn't figure out why she would have helped you if..."

Before he could finish his sentence, Sir Leon's eyes widened, and he gasped, as if suddenly hit in the stomach by a ghost or a powerful spell.

Merlin knew better than to ask anymore, and tidied up the remains of Sir Leon's lunch before exiting the room quietly. When he came back with more wood for the fire, the knight was gone.

It was a nice sunny day. Frost whitening the cobbles was turning into dew, except in those narrow streets where the sun barely ever shone. As he went through the main gates, Leon greeted the guards on duty, but walked away without stopping as the pain in his thigh was always better when he was on the move. Besides, he had other matters on his mind.

For the first time since the incident, as everybody seemed to term his near-death experience, he was wearing his chainmail and Camelot cloak. The weight of the chainmail and the rustle of the cloak were a reassuring reminder of the protection they offered him. He felt whole again, and probably happier than he had been in a long time.

He made his way down to the lower town, greeted as he went along by scores of commoners, guards on patrol and servants out and about, fetching supplies for the palace's kitchens. It was on days like this that the perks of the job were most obvious and most enjoyable, Leon felt. The acknowledgment and recognition for making Camelot a safer, a better place to live, was a reward he couldn't be denied. He also knew that his steadfastness and fairness had earned him a special place in the heart of Camelot's people and, although he wouldn't have ever lived his life differently if this wasn't the case, the fact that the king's subject cared for him was a welcome warming thought on this cold day.

At last he arrived at his destination. He tuck is head in his shoulders as he passed the threshold of the tavern. Being quite a tall knight, he had acquired this habit naturally as an adolescent to avoid bumping into the frame of each door in the kingdom.

He had hardly set foot in the establishment that Roland, ever so affable, greeted him loudly, casting everybody's attentions onto the newly arrived knight. The daytime crowd of the inn was rather different from its night audience, and was for the most part composed of tired travellers and a few shopkeepers enjoying a quick drink and discussing the rising price of wheat and apples as the winter drew in. Sir Leon chose a small table in a quiet corner, where he would be at liberty to observe the patrons whilst being too far to be drawn into any conversation other than the one he wanted to have.

Propping his ailing leg on a grubby stool, he beckoned the tavern owner. Roland waddled his way through the tables and soon reached the knight.

"What will it be for you today, sire? I've got some vegetable stew cooking in the kitchen if it takes your fancy?"

"Yes, that will be fine, Roland." As the innkeeper was about to leave, Leon grabbed his wrist to stop him. "Roland, make sure it's the girl who served us our drinks last week who comes with the stew. I'll pay you double for it."

"Ahhh..." chuckled the vulgar owner, "she does take your fancy after all, doesn't she sire?"

Leon furiously banged his fist on the table, causing Roland to jump out of his skin and grabbed his arm firmly as a warning for speaking out of turn. As his wrist was freed from its strong hold, the tavern owner shuffled back to the counter, muttering something akin to "that girl's been nothing but trouble from day one" and something about "letting her go when winter comes".

The knight barely had to wait two minutes before Ardena brought him his bowl of stew. He examined her thoroughly as she came in, but showed no surprise when she greeted him tiredly:

"I am glad to see you are better, sire. I understand you have been involved in an incident not far from here."

"And I understand I have you to thank for my recovery."

The poor thing really looked terrible. Her eyes had sunk back into their orbits, and glowered as if she had stayed too close to the fire for too long. Her hands were shaking, and he noticed the skin of her white fingers cracking as she put the bowl down. Her woollen dress was the same she had worn on the previous occasion, but it looked worn and thinner than it previously was. If she was flustered by his remark, she hid it surprisingly well.

"I believe you have the court physician to thank for this, sire. I merely ensured the help you needed would be brought to you as swiftly as possible."

"And I will eternally be grateful for this, but it barely seems enough..." He drew the strings on his purse, a knowing smile creeping upon his face. Seeing his intent, the maid stepped back.

"No, sire. As I told the king, I seek no reward." She paused a moment, before adding: "I have found that money serves no purpose but to corrupt the fair and destroy the good."

His smile lost its cheer on hearing this last remark, and his eyes clouded over for a second. Unwilling to brook her refusal, he took her hand, but she withdrew it as soon as she felt his skin touching the mottled skin on her right hand. His eyes grew weary.

"Your hands are boiling, are you sure you are well?"

"I will be fine, sire, it is merely the warmth of the fire."

She turned her back on him and started to walk back towards the kitchens, holding on to a nearby table to steady her gait but paused when she heard Sir Leon call back with a crack in his voice:

"Ardena, please take care of yourself."

She turned back too swiftly, the blood rushed to her head and, no longer able to hide the tears that streamed down onto her cheeks, her deep-blue eyes locked with the knight's as she sniggered and mused aloud: "You remembered..." before collapsing on the filthy floor.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: This chapter comes with a health warning: after writing endless versions of it, I'm still not very happy with it, so please be lenient. **_

_**Some may feel that Arthur's reaction is OOC or OTT, but I believe it is true to his character.**_

_**Anyway... Without further ado...**_

A foot blasted the physician's chambers door open, and Merlin dropped the small glass container he was holding, spreading its contents onto the table.

"Sir Leon!" The knight was barely able to stand under his charge and Merlin was quick to grab the young woman from his arms before he fell back onto the physician's palliasse. Finding no suitable place to lay her down, Merlin took the steps up to his own quarters and carefully deposited Ardena onto his own mattress. He then ran back to the knight. His face was bright red and his breath hitched. The red stain that steadily grew on his breaches indicated that the wound had reopened.

"Sire, let me redress your wound..." he intimated.

"Gaius... I need Gaius to cure her".

"Is that...?" Merlin shut up, realising what he had just been asking. Fortunately, Sir Leon was not in a state to scold him for overstepping his boundaries.

The servant grabbed some fresh bandages and ripping Sir Leon's breaches open, set out to dress up the newly opened wound. Sir Leon was restless, and kept repeating: "Merlin, get Gaius, NOW. She needs help..."

"Gaius has gone to town to get some supplies and he's due back any minute. As soon as I'm done with your dressing, I will go and work on lowering her temperature... Sire." Somehow, adding sire at the end of a sentence always seemed to make any statement more acceptable to Arthur, and he noticed with some amusement that it also worked on Sir Leon. However, there were more pressing matters at hand. He finished tightening the bandage and gently pushed the knight's shoulder onto the mattress. This week of looking after Sir Leon had paid off; the knight relaxed under the pressure and lied down onto the bed.

"Please calm down and rest, sire. I will now go and take care of your... of Ardena."

Merlin grabbed a bowl full of cold water and moved over to his chambers. The woman's brow was burning with fever. He applied a cold compress onto her forehead and dabbed her face repeatedly in an effort to cool her down.

"Merlin, I need you to..." A familiar voice shouted as the old hinges croaked again. "What the... Sire, are you well? Merlin? MERLIN?"

The warlock wrung the cloth again and placed it on Ardena's forehead before pushing his hands against the side of his bed and raising himself up, rushing down the stairs.

"Gaius, I need you up here."

The old physician made his way up the stairs, and gasped at the sight that awaited him.

"What is she doing here, Merlin?"

"Sir Leon brought her while you were out. She's burning with fever. I didn't dare doing anything while you were out."

"What do you mean he brought her in? Sir Leon's in no fit state to carry out such strenuous effort."

Merlin shrugged. "Merlin, would you be so kind as to call Gwen if Morgana can spare her? I may need her help."

As he came out of his chambers, he noticed Sir Leon sat up on the edge of the mattress. The knight looked downcast, hunched forward, holding his head in his hands, crunching his hair within fingers. Merlin hesitated a moment, paused as if to pat the knight on the shoulder or find some comforting words, but he had none to offer, so he left precipitately in search of Gwen.

The maid had been at work with Gaius for a while. Merlin gave a mug of light ale to Sir Leon, having brought some back from the kitchen.

Suddenly, the door banged open again, causing a couple of vials to fall for the shelf behind it and crash on the floor.

"Merlin" Arthur started angrily, "have you seen Sir L..." Merlin's eyes moved to the knight, and Arthur rushed to him angrily, grabbing his shoulders threateningly.

"Leon, for pity's sake, what were you thinking? We've had numerous reports from citizens seeing you carrying a _woman, _a _commoner_ in your arms throughout the lower town and into the castle. Do you have any idea what people thought? Do you have any respect for your code of conduct, for your uniform. If this matter is brought to the king's attention..."

Merlin decided his place was definitely not in the room, and closing the door to his chambers, sat on the stairs, unwilling to disturb Gaius and Gwen's work.

"What on Earth possessed you?"

"She collapsed in the tavern, her brow burning with fever. I did the noble thing and brought her back here to be looked after."

"Noble? You call this a noble act? How many people in Camelot do you think catch a cold, or a fever in a winter? How many have you ever seen me bringing back to the castle for Gaius to treat them? Seriously, Leon, I thought you had better judgement." As Arthur ran out of words, his anger diminished. "Carrying some random girl into the castle..."

"She's not a random girl, Arthur. I know her." Sir Leon answered flatly.

"What do you mean you know her? From what you said and the reports I had, I suspect she's the servant who brought you back to the castle, but I would hardly call this knowning someone, Leon."

"No, sire, you don't understand. I _know _her."

Arthur furrowed his brow, letting go of Leon's shoulders, and, all anger suddenly forgotten, sat next to him on the palliasse. "But she's just a commoner, Leon, how can you..."

"She's not a commoner. Well, at least she didn't use to be one. She was my sister's lady in waiting."

"Nolwenn's...lady in waiting?"

Sir Leon smiled at the mention of his sister. Arthur and Nolwenn had always been very fond of each other. "Yes. She's the daughter of my father's bailiff. She started working as a companion to Nolwenn when she was barely eight years old. Being only a year or two older than her, Ardena quickly became a dear companion to my were always found running around in the corridors and plotting again me." Sir Leon smiled at the remembrance. "She was so close to my sister that she still held that position when I left Camelot nearly ten years ago. As you know I have been too busy to go back home since and I don't know why or how she found herself where she is now."

Arthur sighed in sympathy and put a friendly hand on Sir Leon's hand. He could see that the situation was far more complex than it appeared at first glance, and couldn't quite fathom the extent of Sir Leon's feelings at the present time. The knight looked downhearted and... guilty, as thought he somewhat felt responsible for her present predicament. Well, it was no wonder, given she had risked her life for him, but Arthur couldn't help wondering whether these feeling were brought up by some deeper ties between them. He was contemplating the situation and possible courses of actions when the door to Merlin's room opened and Gwen appeared.

"Prince Arthur. Sire." she curtsied respectfully to both men.

"Ardena's condition is critical at this stage." Her eyes were tearing up and Arthur felt his heart miss a beat. "I have to offer you my deepest apologies, sire. I did notice she was injured when she was brought here last week, but she would not have the wound inspected, so I bandaged it for her and let her go. The infection has spread throughout her body, but Gaius is doing his best."

Leon noticed Arthur fidgeting with his sword-belt buckle, carefully avoiding looking at the maid. He had known for months that the prince harboured some feelings for the servant. But given their respective situations, he knew how torn the prince must have felt, and had therefore kept his reflections to himself. He stood and walked up the stairs towards Merlin's room, leaving them to console each other as best they could.

It was as if she had been buried deep, deep into the furniture, her chest barely raising to take in breath. Her features were relaxed, probably thanks to Gaius's potions and ointments but her cheeks were flushed and her skin marbled. Gwen had had to tear her dress to get to her injury. The scraps of wool lay on the floor, discarded hastily to tend to her. In spite of her state and status, she still was one of the most beautiful women in the kingdom, Sir Leon thought.

Gaius had knelt down next to the bed, and his ward had brought him a pillow to prop under his knees, for the room had only one chair which the knight was occupying. He felt a bit bad for it, as Gaius' bones were sure to cause him trouble in the morning, but such was the privilege of the knights and the old physician would never have accepted the seat anyway. Merlin made to get up, but Gaius applied a firm hand on his arm, and he remained in place, looking at the peaceful face in front of him.

Arthur's indignation was churning inside the knight. Of course, his gesture had been ill advised. But was he supposed to do nothing, to let Ardena die for having saved him from a pointless death? Was his life worth so much more than hers? Deep inside, he knew this was partly true, but only so that he could be better used as cannon fodder for Uther's purposes.

At last, the Prince and the servant joined them in the chamber. The room was barely big enough to contain them all.

Arthur assessed the situation, and spoke in a clear but calm voice, at odds with his earlier outburst.

"Right. Ardena cannot stay in this room, as it would be seen as improper for her to stay here alone with Merlin and Gaius." Sir Leon rose to his feet but Arthur lifted his hand to prevent him from talking.

"We'll take her to the room next to Morgana's, and Gwen will look after her as best as she can. This corridor leads nowhere, so nobody should see any of us going to those quarters other than Morgana. Guinevere, you need to borrow one of Morgana's dresses. We'll need to dress Ardena so that she looks like a lady of the court. If anybody asks, it will be easier to make excuses. But I really hope we won't have to rely on this stratagem. I do not want the king to know about this. Is that clear?"

All nodded in agreement, and Sir Leon felt a wave of gratefulness rush inside him. Arthur was fair and understanding, which were qualities his father lacked entirely. Leon often pondered how Arthur had grown to be such a compassionate and magnanimous prince without the loving help of a mother.

After sorting out all relevant arrangements for Ardena's care, and crafting a solid cover story should her whereabouts in the castle become public, all went about their business, and smuggled Ardena out of Gaius' chambers and into the royal quarters.


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N.: A great thank you to all who read and/or reviewed so far. In answer to Blueberry's review, I'm afraid I am going to stick to calling knights and royalties "sire" throughout this story, as I think it is appropriate in this context. Apologies if this spoils your enjoyment of the story.**

Night had fallen over Camelot, and with it, a new sleepless night for Sir Leon. Ardena had been safely moved to the quarters adjacent to Morgana's, and, as Gwen was getting Morgana ready for bedtime, Gaius was looking after the young woman with the help of Merlin.

Sir Leon had been sat with her all afternoon, taking only a few minutes to walk about the castle so his absence wouldn't be too conspicuous, before coming back with some bread and cheese for Merlin and Gaius. That was the work of servants, reflected Merlin, and yet there was such innate benevolence in Sir Leon that he never saw himself as being beyond such menial tasks. That probably also was why the knight didn't have a servant in Camelot, unlike most of the younger, lesser knights.

Arthur had popped in quickly after his afternoon council meeting, and stayed with Sir Leon for a little while, urging him to go and rest, but to no avail. "I'm still not back on active duty, Sire." the knight responded. Nobody expects me to do anything or to attend meetings and training sessions. I'll go to bed when she's out of danger." Arthur had looked to Gaius, who, with a frown, had confirmed his worst fears: Ardena's recovery could well take days, even weeks, and Sir Leon would never last that long, surviving on concern and a blind faith in Gaius' abilities.

Arthur knew Sir Leon's reaction was well beyond what he would have expected from the knight, especially as, to all eyes but his, Ardena was just a servant girl from the lower town. Sir Leon's feelings for Ardena, if such they were, were unknown to all but himself and, to some extent, unreasonable given the situation, but Arthur was not one to cast judgement on a knight's possible feelings for a servant girl, and he knew that the physician and servants involved would keep similar thoughts to themselves. So far their protégée was safe.

Arthur had gone just before dinner, to sit down with his father and the Lady Morgana and chitchat idly about the gossip of the day. It wasn't Arthur's favourite time of day, but one Uther saw as essential to keep in touch with his kingdom. The Prince sometimes wished his father would lift himself from his throne and go see by himself what was happening among his citizens, but had so far been disappointed in that respect. At least it would keep the king entertained, and, as Gwen would be serving at the dinner table, the experience would at least be diverting.

"Gaius, I think you should go and rest", Merlin suggested as the physician started to find it more and more difficult to read the labels of his phials in the decreasing light of this autumnal day. "I've got it in hand", Merlin confirmed. "I'll manage the fever through the night and give her the tincture of elderberry and goldenseal every two hours, as you requested. I'll call you if anything changes".

Pride in his charge swelling inside his chest, the old man nodded and made a slow exit, as his knees were starting to burn, and left Merlin alone with his patient and the knight.

Silence reigned for a long while, and Merlin felt almost guilty to tuck into the improvised dinner the knight had brought with him. He noticed Sir Leon hadn't eaten anything and handed him some bread, but the tall knight barely nibbled at it. His eyes were transfixed by the prone figure in the beautifully ornate bed. In an effort to strike conversation and bring him back to his senses, Merlin asked:

"Sire, would you like me to bring a small mattress in the chambers for you? You truly look exhausted and if you're going to stay here all night, we may as well try to keep you comfortable." he added with a sympathetic smile.

Sir Leon was touched by the young man's kindness for him. Without taking his eyes off Ardena, he replied earnestly:

"I'm really sorry I'm causing you all so much trouble. Arthur is probably right: it was foolish of me to bring disrespect to Camelot in this way."

Merlin heard the hint of sarcasm that tainted those words. It was not Sir Leon's habit to display such bitterness.

"Have you ever had any regrets, Merlin, for meaning to do something, to change something, and failing to do so?"

Merlin sniggered and rolled his eyes."You have no idea". Then he remembered this wasn't Arthur and checked himself. "Yes, sire."

Sir Leon smirked. The boy was just as unruly as Arthur suggested, yet loyal and dependable. And strangely wise for such a young man. Had he been born noble, he would probably have made a fine knight, he reflected.

The wavering light of the candle cast dark shadows over Ardena's features, exuding a deathly glow. Having tended to his patient, Merlin sat on the floor, resting his back against the wall, under the window, thoughtfully observing the knight. Sir Leon yawned, and rubbed his face with the palms of his hands, lightly brushing his beard before running his fingers through his hair.

Time passed in silence. Everything was still and the knight could feel the piercing gaze of the servant on him. The boy probably thought he was being unreasonable by insisting on remaining at Ardena's side. Sir Leon realised he was exhausted, too tired to even think rationally. At last, he gave up on his self-imposed night watch:

"I will take your advice, Merlin. I can see I'm going to serve no purpose staying here, so I'll retire for the night." He stretched his stiff legs, moaning as the pain set in again, and, as he went past him to reach the door, squeezed Merlin's shoulder.

"I'm sorry to have imposed on you in such a way, Merlin. You and Gwen are true friends to Arthur and Camelot, and dare I say, to me. I won't forget this." He smiled sadly and disappeared through the door.

* * *

Sir Leon didn't reappear in the chambers the next morning, but came to see Arthur in his quarters after breakfast, and noticed a very tired Merlin tidying up behind the prince. He addressed a guilty smile to him, and presented his full apologies to Arthur for his actions of the previous day, surreptitiously let me know he was very grateful for Ardena's continued treatment.

Arthur was clever enough accept the knight's carefully crafted apology, indicating in return that his secret would remain between them and that, in spite of the events of the previous day, he did not condemn (nor condone) the man for his actions. He would keep granting him the protection he deemed necessary, and cautioned him gently, but his heart wasn't really with it.

From there on the knight's visits to Ardena became shorter and sporadic, and he only stayed about two hours at a time, usually once a day, sitting in the corner of the room, his eyes fixed upon her face, deep in thought. He always had a nice word for the servants or Gaius when he came in, and thanked them as he went out.

Whilst Ardena was still unconscious, Gaius was hopeful she was gradually getting better, and, after two weeks, let Sir Leon know he expected her to wake up soon.

The next morning was a dreary one. Sir Leon had restarted training, as his leg was slowly healing and, whilst Arthur was ensuring he was taking it easy, the knight enjoyed the distraction provided by the training sessions. He was about to show some of the new knights a defensive technique they needed to work on when he saw Merlin running towards Arthur. The two exchanged a few quiet words, and the servant disappeared again, as quickly as he had come. Arthur beckoned him as the youngsters were practising against each other.

As he approached, Arthur leant towards him and whispered over his shoulder.

"Leon, she's awake."

If the knight felt any excitement, turmoil, or any other strong feeling he may have been expected to show, he hid it with remarkable ease, Arthur noticed. The prince asked him whether he could wait till the end of the training session, and Sir Leon nodded back with a polite smile.

The knights only had time to run through a few more defensive sword moves before the rain started pouring over the training fields, turning already sparse grass into huge muddy puddles, rendering any controlled movements impossible, thus making training dangerous for all.

Arthur called it a day and the knights retreated to the castle to change into dry clothes and get some lunch. It was no surprise to the prince that Sir Leon had ran very quickly towards the main entrance and disappeared into the maze of the castle's corridors.

* * *

"Ah, sire! Here you are." Gaius fussed over the knight as he came in. Turning sideways so as not to be seen by his patient, the physician added: "Your friend, sire, is a feisty woman. She may not be able to lift her hand yet, but she's been quite rude about my concoctions and refuses to drink them." The physican proceeded to open the curtains before picking up a small phial

The knight noted that Sir Leon didn't look remotely upset by the remarks, in fact, there was a slight spark in his eye that suggested he had found his charge quite amusing, if a bit unruly. He smiled back at the physician. That sounded a lot more like the young woman he once knew.

Carefully closing the door behind him, Sir Leon asked in a playful yet sanctimonious tone. "Ardena, will you please drink Gaius' concoction? It will help you recover more quickly."

The young woman, who had not seen the knight coming in, tensed up at the sound while her eyes searched for the berating voice. She gasped as she saw the figure of the knight approaching the bed.

Now that her eyes had adapted to the dull but potent light streaming through the window, she took time to observe Sir Leon. Those last ten years had changed him a lot. He had grown a beard, which nicely framed his otherwise soft jaw, and his wavy hair had also grown further. But, even if he had been horribly disfigured, she would have recognised those benevolent blue eyes which were looking back at her. They perfectly mirrored the kindness of his soul, and bore through her with the unwavering compassion he had always borne inside.

"Your wish is my command, sire" she answered subserviently. Sir Leon's smiled disappearing at the monotonous, indifferent tone in which she had addressed him. He let out a heartbroken sigh.

"You used to call me Leon, Ardena."

She turned her head away to avoid his gaze.

"This was a long time ago, sire." Ardena drank the liquid Gaius presented her with and winced as the thick sludgy and utterly revolting concoction slid down her throat. The physician coughed to attract Sir Leon's attention, indicating he was leaving the room to give them a bit of privacy. As the door closed again, Ardena complained languidly:

"You should have left me where I was, sire. You should have let me die. I can't repay any of this... I know all this is done for your sake, and I don't want to be in your debt ever again, sire."

Leon shook his head but did not dignify her tirade with an answer. Instead, he resumed the conversation with his own train of thoughts.

"Ardena, look at me. What happened to you? How... Why... How have you found yourself working at the Rising Sun?" The words were eluding him as he was trying to get her to talk back at him, to get any reaction out of the pale woman who lay in front of him.

His words triggered an unexpected reaction, as Ardena frantically tried to sit up, flailing about under the sheets, only managing to further exhaust herself. Leon got up and pressed her forehead tenderly, shushing softly to calm her down. At last she settled and answered with another question:

"Did nobody tell you what happened sire? Have you not heard? It was so long ago... How could you not know?"

A mix of guilt and confusion was eating the knight. "What should I have heard, Ardena?"

"Your father had mine executed, sire." She answered matter-of-factly, as if it was of no consequence.

"What?" Ardena could read the knight's expression like a book. Anger and disbelief radiated from him now.

"It happened nearly ten years ago, sire." Sir Leon wished she would stop calling him sire but would not interrupt her in case she chose not to resume her story. "Do you remember my father was very ill at the time?"

"Yes, I do remember. I gave you some money to pay for a doctor to come from Cenred's kingdom to cure him and..." He bowed his head down, unsure whether to mention the other object that had been exchanged on that occasion, in case the remembrance was not a pleasant one.

"It wasn't just some money, sire, it was a _lot _of money. Way too much... And we both know it wasn't just a doctor." Leon had turned away from her, but Ardena could still feel his muscles tensing at the insinuation. She sighed sadly : the King had trained him well. "This was just before you left for your knighthood in Camelot. My father came to thank you, and told you that..."

"My good heart would be my downfall, I remember." He flushed, remembering how he failed to recognise Ardena until these words were repeated to him. How could he have forgotten?

"Well, he was right." Tears were streaming down her cheeks, reddening her eyes and whitening her skin further. "After you left for Camelot, Berilus, who was then your father's treasurer, found the money you had given us for my father's treatment and accused him of stealing from the coffers in front of the Great Council. There was no way my father could have gathered that much money as a bailiff."

"But didn't you tell him I had given _you_ the money?"

"Who would have believed him, sire? Besides, as you just said, you had given it to _me_, not to my father, and we both know what this would have looked like. Father made me promise not to say a word. Actually, that's the last thing he told me. He was beheaded in front of the whole village the next morning."

The knight closed his eyes and cupped his face in his hands, shaking it vehemently. "How could this have happened?" He paused.

"My father knew, sire. He knew where the money and the locket came from."

His eyebrows stirred at the mention of the locket. There was so much to say... But he decided to remain silent and let her continue with her story.

"But he didn't say a thing. I know he judged me - and you for that matter. He thought me foolish and I know he thought I had forgotten my stature, but he didn't say a thing in his own defence. He was faithful to you to the last, sire, eager to preserve _your _integrity in front of your own father."

"Surely, he was trying to do what was best for you?" Ardena sniggered sarcastically.

"Think about it, sire. He knew full well what was going to happen to my mother and I once the execution took place. Yet he still went through with it. We've always known what type of man your father was, and how he treated you, but most of us chose to turn a blind eye on it."

Sir Leon opened his mouth, aghast, but said nothing more. There was so much pain and sorrow seeping through her words his heart could barely take it.

"What did you do, then?"

"The day of the execution, I stood my mother as we watched my father die. I took her back to our house, but guards knocked on the door just after noon and asked us to leave by sundown. The house had always belonged to your father, sire, and as my father was no longer in his employment, we were no longer entitled to stay in it."

A searing sensation ran through the knight's veins as he clenched his fists to contain his rage. The feeling of guilt and responsibility boiled in his stomach, making him nauseous. It had all been his fault, for being so obtuse, so naive about the consequences of his own actions.

"I took mother to my aunt in Elthiren. I managed to find employment as a farmer's maid for a couple of years, but after the Great Famine that struck us, they had to let me go. Mother had lost her mind by then, she wasn't able to work or earn a living, and my aunt couldn't afford to keep us both, so I took the road, begging along the way, and finding work wherever I could. Springs and summer are easy enough, there's always work in the fields, and it's easy to live off what the forest offers. In the autumn work gradually gets scarcer, and I barely managed to survive the last three winters. This year I thought I'd come to Camelot to find employment, as most youngsters seem to do nowadays."

So their reunion had been purely fortuitous then, thought Sir Leon, as disappointment tugged at his heart. The cold rain outside mirrored the freezing feeling of inadequacy and incompetence slowly creeping upon him. Ardena looked exhausted by their conversation. Her hair draped over the feather cushion, her face paler than death itself. Her heavy eyelids closed slowly. The knight stood up and made his way to the window. With his hand on the cool stone wall, he looked outside to the town below. There were so many things he wanted to ask, so many questions he wanted answered. _Why did nobody tell me ? _His brain kept asking, desperately trying to quell the answer his heart provided unwittingly: _"Because you abandoned them, because you left and never looked back."_

He groaned, mentally head-slapping himself for his failings. It was too late, now. Too late to regret and too late to change the past. Bending over Ardena's limp and unconscious body, Leon tidied the stray locks of hair, admiring her face as his fingers moved gently across her face. Memories hit him like a thousand razor-sharp swords, but he shook them away. All that was left was Ardena.

"How did we get there, Leon?"

He jumped as her voice rose, louder than he would have expected. She had used his name. The corners of his mouth twitched into an ephemeral smile before dropping just as suddenly as he registered the meaning of her question.

"I don't know, Ardena. I just don't know."


	6. Chapter 6

_**A.N.: First, major apologies for the long delay since posting the previous chapter. Had it not been for a mysterious incident involving a computer pixie and the deletion of a very precious file, you would have had it two weeks ago... But, anyway, chapter rewritten, and posted at last. It is particularly long , but I needed it to stay that way as it is "one unit".**_

_**Just a word of warning: This chapter contains implied violence/physical abuse.**_

_**Many thanks to all those who read, reviewed and/or set alerts for this story. Special thanks to my little friend and own tavern barmaid for her continued support **___

Days were getting shorter as winter drew in. It was a week since their last conversation and, from what Sir Leon had heard from Merlin, Ardena was doing well, and was expected to be discharged by Gaius very soon. The knight was just starting to realise how close to death his protégée had been. Every day, the weight of his past crept further and further up his shoulders, burdening his every move, corrupting his every thought, and threatening his ability to carry out his duties. He knew Arthur had noticed his absentmindedness. He would sometimes catch the Prince looking at him, deep in thought, head cocked to one side, but no word had been exchanged and Leon was very grateful for his ruler's apathy on the matter.

Eyes heavy through lack of sleep, the knight stretched his arms, trying to lighten the metaphorical weight on his shoulders and shook his head to clear his mind. So many thoughts were whirling through his mind that he had barely had any sleep recently. And, when he did, flashing nightmares prevented him from resting as he should do.

He had been requested by the king to give an update on the situation regarding crop reserves for the winter this morning. It was however still early, and he thought he would pop in to see Ardena. Like every other day, he reached the door and leant against it, unable to move forward. He didn't know what to say, what to do anymore. How was he even going to start this conversation? He let out a deep sigh, his forehead gently hitting the door frame as Gwen appeared at the end of the corridor.

"Sire", she whispered admonishingly. "I wish you wouldn't stay here. Your presence here would look very suspicious." She made to the door but the knight caught her wrist. She looked down at the plate she was holding.

"Want some?" she suggested half-heartedly. Sir Leon shook his head and she sighed again.

"You're not going to come in, are you, sire?" His head shook again. It wasn't the first time she had caught him here. The maid continued in what she hoped would be perceived as a friendly tone.

"She's been asking about you, you know? She's a very sweet woman. I can see what..." She checked herself: this was none of her business. "Shall I tell her you've been around? I'm sure she would like to know how much you ca..." The grip on her wrist tightened a bit too much and she bit her lips in an effort to remain composed.

Sir Leon realised what he was doing and let go of her immediately, apologising profusely to the maid. His eyes were frantic and his hands combing through his hair betrayed his frazzled state of mind.

"I'm really, really sorry, Gwen. I've been summoned to the king. I need to go. Tell Ardena... No, don't tell her anything, but do let me know if you think she's about to leave, do you understand?"

Gwen nodded and the knight ran away from the corridor.

The doors to the council chamber were as imposing as ever, and closed. Sir Leon berated himself for being late, yet again. Arthur was bound to remonstrance him at some point for his lack of punctuality, but it was the wrath of the king that he feared most. Crops weren't plentiful this year; the summer had been so wet that the harvest was poor. The news he had to bring was that rationing would become a necessity, and that the city may not be able to last all winter on the stocks kept in the royal granary.

A head appeared through the door. Arthur summoned him quietly, his face contorted in exasperation: "Leon, how did you manage to be late again! My father's not a happy man this morning, make sure you don't irritate him." Leon grimaced, which the prince took as a confirmation that this wasn't likely. He opened the door in full and stepped in the council chamber.

_The tiny child stepped forward from behind the relative security of her father's cloak. His hand pushed her on, spurring her forward, so she stood alone in front of Lord Alfric. Instead of bowing down respectfully, she lifted her chin, her eyes defiantly boring into the nobleman's._

"_How old are you, child"._

"_Eight, my Lord". Alfric's lips contorted into a smile that was neither benevolent nor comforting._

"_And do you know why you've been brought here?"_

"_To serve my Lord and his family" Ardena answered. Her head dropped at the thought. Today was the day._

_Half hidden behind his father's throne, Leon looked at the small girl, alone in the middle of the room, looking straight at his father's face._

"_You should be honoured, child", his father continued, "You have been chosen to be my daughter's lady-in-waiting."_

_All in the room, with the possible exception of Ardena herself, knew what burden had just befallen the girl. Although the title would help her rise in society in future, she had years of solitude and service in front of her, and very little rewards would come her way for a long time. The Lord ruled his county with an iron fist._

_Ardena nodded silently, dread building up inside her. Instinctively, she stepped back as the smile on Lord Alfric's face grew spiteful. She managed to step back and grabbed the lining of her father's cloak for comfort._

"_You will now be escorted to your quarters, where you will receive your instructions." The Lord's fingers flickered with a sharp twitch and the Lady stood. She walked slowly towards the little girl and crouched in front of her. _

"_Ardena, we need to go now. Will you come with me?"_

_From his safe vantage point, Leon observed as the girl lost all semblance of confidence and shook her head frantically, hanging on to her father's cloak for dear life. The bailiff sighed and unfolded her fingers. The heavy fabric of the cloak slumped down as it was released from the girl's grip, and her hand was placed into the slender palm of the woman. _

_Tears streamed down the girl's face as she was led away, and she turned back once, only to see her father smiling sadly at her and reiterating the promise of his eternal affections, before being whisked away down a dark and cold corridor._

"So what are you conclusions?" Uther asked coldly.

"Uh... I would suggest that we refrain from using the supplies for at least another month, after which we should start distributing reduced rations to all those who need them. if we reduce all rations by a quarter, the stock should hopefully last until mid-March, which should see most citizens through the winter." Leon's answer came almost automatically to his lips. He had thought about these things so many times and pondered over the same issues for three winters, now. There were not thousands of solutions and Leon always chose the one that would provide the biggest ration for the people while ensuring the stocks wouldn't deplete until other sources of food were available. And so far it had worked.

Uther sighed and nodded. "Moving on... We need to discuss the situation with regards to..." Leon's attention waivered and he found himself sitting back down, resting his head against the tired carved wooden backrest. His mind picked up a word here and there... "Lord Ethelburg"... "sorcery"... "witnesses"... "bloodshed"... but none of it really registered within him.

"SIR LEON!" Uther shouted angrily. "I won't repeat myself yet again!" The king looked at him expectantly, as if awaiting an answer. Leon raised his eyebrows, looking to Arthur for some sort of clue. The prince rolled his eyes and grinded his teeth in utter exasperation.

"Father, I'm afraid Sir Leon is not in a position to lead the search party at the moment."

"And why would that be, Arthur?"

"I have entrusted him with a mission of the utmost importance, to which he is currently devoting most of his time."

"And may I enquire about the nature of this "mission"?" the king replied curtly.

"I'm afraid I cannot divulge what the mission is at the present moment, as my suspicions have not yet been confirmed and I would not want to alarm the Council with unfounded rumours. Should Sir Leon report anything of a worrying nature, I will let you know as soon as possible so that further action may be taken". Arthur thought he had covered his back (and Leon's) quite well with this excuse, and hoped the knight would go with the flow. The king looked semi-convinced, but didn't bring the matter again.

"Sir Leon, you'll brief Sir Ellis on the mission and he'll head the search party in your place", the king ruled.

Sir Leon nodded, thinking he'd need to catch up with Arthur to know what the mission was about. That was, if Arthur didn't catch him first.

As the council meeting was adjourned, the knight made his way to his own quarters to get ready for the afternoon practice. As he was climbing the last few steps leading to the corridor where his chambers were located, a booming and familiar voice called angrily.

"LEON!"

The knight stopped dead in his tracks as all the ire and fury held in his name rippled through his veins like a slow, excruciating poison, bringing with them most unwelcome and repressed memories.

"_NOLWENN! Come back here immediately", Lord Alfric's menacing yells roared through the smoky corridor. _

_Leon hid in the alcove at the end of the corridor, breathing heavily, his forehead propped against the cold stone._

"_NOLWENN!" The Lord repeated. His sister appeared at the end of the corridor, crying profusely, reluctantly stepping forward in front of her father. _

"_I'm sorry, father, I..."_

_Alfric grabbed her wrist and dragged her to the threshold of her own room._

_From the safety of the alcove, Leon sighed. He knew what had happened. It had just been a stupid accident, the unfortunate consequence of a game of cat and mouse gone too far. The siblings had both been playing around the castle, running after each other, hurtling into passing servants carrying precariously balanced trays for the feast that was being prepared. They had finally reached Nolwenn's chambers. Circling around the table, Nolwenn was finally catching up with him when he grabbed the jug at hand and threw its contents at his sister. _

"_Leon, you idiot! Look what you've done!"_

_The boy looked embarrassed. The delicate silk of his sister's beautiful banquet gown was water-stained, possibly irremediably. There was no way she would be able to wear this tonight. _

"_Now, get out." She scolded. "I need to get changed... And I hope Father won't notice I'm not wearing my new evening dress."_

_Leon sighed. "I'm sorry, Nolwenn. Would you like me to get Ardena for you?"_

_His sister rolled her eyes in disbelief. "Leon, you dimwit. I'll have you know that I can dress myself on my own. Leave Ardena where she is, she's got enough to do today"._

_Leon had retreated sheepishly to his quarters and was carefully carving a little dragon out of a small piece of wood when Nolwenn came rushing in, panicked and white as a sheet._

_Now she was sobbing uncontrollably under the restraint of her father. The acrid smell of the smoke rose from the empty room. Leon could see the torn remnants of luxurious blue curtains that had previously hung in the room, the drapes around her bed, the heat-darkened furniture. The black traces left by the fire were omnipresent, a permanent reminder of the darkness to come. _

_In the midst of his reflections and amongst his sister's shrilly pleas, the boy didn't notice the girl walking steadily towards the room. Ever so silently, she stepped into the room and cleared her throat to attract the Lord's attention. _

_Alfric stopped dead in his tracks, right hand high above his head, ready for a strike, whilst the left one pinned his own daughter back against the side of the table. _

"_Sire, if I may interrupt". She bowed reverently as Alfric let go of his unwilling victim._

"_I'm afraid I may be responsible for the fire, sire. I was in such a hurry today, with all the extra duties brought on by the banquet... I brought the laundry up to dry a while ago and, in my eagerness to complete all my daily tasks, I fear I may have put one of the dresses to dry too close to the fire."_

_A shiver crept up Leon's back. Was the girl an idiot? Didn't she know what his father would do to her? _

_Ardena curtsied, he eyes screwed to the floor as all her muscles tensed, waiting for the master's sentence._

_A soft hand pressed lightly on Leon's shoulder. He turned round to see his mother, smiling sadly back at him as his own father grabbed a handful of the servant girls hair and dragged her away down the corridor._

_The girl didn't reappear until after the banquet. The party had been entertaining, and both Leon and Nolwenn had enjoyed the acts on display. As the siblings retired to their room for the night, they found Ardena waiting for her mistress on the threshold of her quarters. Her left cheek was marred with an unpleasant shade of purple, and her eye was swollen and half closed. _

_Leon's pulse quickened in guilt and shame. He had totally forgotten about the afternoon's incident. _

"_Ardena, are you alright" his sister enquired with concern. _

"_I am fine. I came to see if you required my services. If you do not mind, I would like to retire early tonight. It's been a long day."_

"_Of course." Nolwenn smiled back but stopped dead in her tracks when she opened the door. The room had been cleaned, the curtains and bed linen changed and, other than a slight grey tinge to the wall, the chambers had been returned to the state they were previously in. She turned back to see her friend curtsied dutifully and scurry away before she had time to utter a thank you._

_Ardena was half-way down the corridor when she felt a soft hand gently grab her shoulder. She recoiled violently at the touch but realised who those graceful fingers belonged to and followed the Lady of the castle towards her private quarters. _

_Leon came back with the jar of ointment his mother had sent him to fetch. The door to her chambers was ajar, letting a small ray of fleeting light come out of the room. Leaning against the door frame to catch his breath, he decided to wait for an opportune moment to barge into the room. His mother's voice, smooth and soothing, echoed from inside the candle-lit room._

"_Why did you lie to Alfric, Ardena ? Why did you take the blame for Nolwenn?" Ardena shuddered as her eyes glazed over, watching the fire fixedly._

"_I... just thought he would get rid of me. That he'd send me away." Tears pearled in her eyes. "I just want to go home." The woman wrapped a motherly arm around the girl, who collapsed into her and started sobbing. _

_Leon chose that moment to enter the room and deliver the little pot of unguent he had been trusted with. Placing it on the table by the woman and the child, he went out as quickly as he had come in, unnoticed. He fought back the bile that was rising in his throat, knowing first hand of the evils that lay in the heart of the castle and burying them meticulously in the dark recesses of his own mind._

Arthur was angry. Leon could guess that much by the way the prince had grabbed his leather shirt and had pinned him menacingly against the door of his own chambers.

"Sir Leon, you're an idiot!" he shouted as a servant scuttled past. Memories flooded past but the knight willed them away. Now was not the time for reminiscing. Sir Leon managed to grab the handle with his right hand and both men nearly felt into the room as the door opened suddenly under the weight of the knight. As he tried to reclaim the scraps of balance and dignity he had left, Arthur slammed the door shut, shouting: "What the hell were you thinking ?".

Again, recollections of times past flooded back but were kept at bay by the tall, strong-willed man. Standing face to face with the prince, he clenched his fists, waiting for the king's son to lash out about his utter incompetence.

To his surprise, though, Arthur's gait relaxed and he walked to the table and sat on one of the chairs, pressing both hands onto the wood, as if to calm his nerves.

Sir Leon was still standing, facing the door, his brain unable to compute what was going on. Arthur inhaled deeply.

"Come and take a seat, Leon."

The other man looked at him in wonder and amazement while Arthur pointed at the bigger chair on the other side of the table.

"I'm sorry about that", he pointed at the door, "I couldn't let my father think I've gone soft on you." A couple of servants had witnessed the scene outside and the knight knew for sure that rumours of his telling-off at the hands of the Crown Prince would soon reach the king himself.

The prince relaxed, stretching his legs under the table slouching slightly into the comfortable oak chair. He looked at his second in command with a slightly smug smile, examining him carefully, all anger gone from his face.

"Listen, Leon..." The knight frowned at the casual use of his name. "I can't just let you sabotage yourself and look from the sidelines. I... I don't pretend to know what's going on with you, and, to be fair, I don't even need to know. All I know is that your current behaviour is less than adequate, and I'm not the only one to notice it. I can't really turn a blind eye to it."

"Sire, I understand..." Leon tried to answer.

"Shut up, Leon." Arthur sighed, all his attention suddenly focused on watching his hands. Leon opened his mouth but Arthur silenced him with a wave. "You've got to get a grip. Whatever it is, you need to sort it out and get your focus back." He let out a sigh again and stood up, making his way to the door.

"Mark my words, Leon. I can't cover for you anymore. I give you a couple of days, after which I won't have any other choice but to suspend you from your responsibilities if you keep on like this." His hand lay on the door knob, his knuckles briefly turning white.

"I know how lonely a knight's life can be, Leon. I know it first hand." Leon understood the meaning behind the words. "If you ever need a chat, my door's open..." As the prince disappeared behind the door, the knight lay back down on his bed, letting the memory that had plagued him all morning flood through him.

_It was a beautiful day. The leaves rustled as they swished by, the frantic rhythm of hooves pounding on the dark earth beneath them filling their ears. Ardena was already galloping past her mistress, barely two furlongs behind Leon. The young man spurred his stallion on, hoping the girl wouldn't be able to match the improved pace. Leon was considered one of the best riders in the county, if not in the kingdom, and he wasn't ready nor willing to be defeated by a girl he had taught to ride for barely two years. Ardena was a natural, fearless and instinctive. His sister was also an excellent rider, but nervous and reluctant to push her mounts too far or too fast and had a preference for a gentle canter in the forest. _

_They rode together for what seemed ages, brushing branches and jumping logs as they went by. Leon had the advantage of knowing the terrain like the back of his hand, yet Ardena was still trailing him. Leon was about to spur his horse one last time, when he noticed the regular thumping behind him had suddenly disappeared._

_He pulled on the reins a bit too hard, and the horse bucked under the strain applied to its jaw. Leon winced and turned back to retrace his steed's steps. _

"_Ardena?" he called, worry creeping up along his spine. He was scouring the forest for any trace of the light red cloak the maid had been wearing that day. However, it is an unshod foot poking out in the fern that betrayed her location._

_Leon jumped off his horse and ran towards the inanimate body. Her head was propped against a tree stump, bark stained with strands of blood from an as yet unseen wound. Her hair was floating around her face, as though she was still riding in the wind. _

_Although he would never admit to it, Leon was innerly panicking at the sight of the ashen skin and very still features. _

"_Nolwenn!", he shouted for help before turning back towards the unconscious girl, hands brushing his face in helplessness, exasperation and, dare he admit it, fear._

_A couple of minutes later, the steady clip-clop of his sister's horse drew closer and closer until she emerged at the corner of the small clearing. _

"_What is that all about, Leon? I..." The prone figure on the floor caught her attention, and she hurried off her mount and tied the gelding to a nearby tree before rushing to her brother's side._

"_What happened?"_

"_I think she must have fallen. I... just noticed she wasn't following me anymore. I..."_

"_Leon, you idiot!" Nolwenn shouted out in anger. "I've told you and Ardena time and time again to be careful. You may be the best rider in the kingdom, but she's not. You've only been training her for a couple of years! Stupid, stupid Leon!"_

"_Alright, I get the idea." he answered sheepishly. Kneeling down in front of Ardena, Nolwenn pushed Leon away unceremoniously and gestured evasively in the direction of her horse. _

"_Grab the leather bag that's tied to my saddle". Leon obeyed and trotted back, handing the saddle bag to his sister. He then knelt by his sister, white as a sheet. Nolwenn rolled her eyes at her brother's demeanour. She had never seen him so fretful at the sight of a casualty._

_She gently patted Ardena's cheek, calling her softly to get a reaction. After a few attempts, her maid finally opened her eyes, flailing about, disoriented. Nolwenn continued to address her softly, before asking her brother to retrieve a small flask from the leather bag._

"_Drink some of it, and then give some to Ardena" she instructed, hoping that its content would somewhat revive them both. _

_Leon took a swig, nearly choking as the burning liquid seemed to bore a hole all the way to his stomach, and forced a few drops past Ardena's lips._

"_I don't think father would be very pleased to know that you're helping yourself to his private supply", he added when he stopped coughing._

"_Well, let's just make sure he never knows then". Her tone was playful but she was fully focused on her patient. Fortunately, the alcohol had had the desired effect on the latter, as she stopped moving as much and relaxed under her mistress' touch._

"_Ardena, you've had a fall. Just try and stay still. I need to check your head for any injury."_

_She slowly scooped the maid's head with her hands, her fingers deftly checking for any injury. There was a cut at the back of her head, which seemed to be bleed profusely but was actually relatively shallow. She didn't detect any hollow or kink to, which was a good sign: Ardena probably didn't have a cracked skull. She then proceeded to inspect the rest of her body, her hands hovering over each and every limb, bone and muscle, searching for any potential injury._

_Leon started to feel gradually uneasy as his sister pursued her examination and, as she didn't seem to need him, decided to tend to the horses. Ardena's little gelding had reappeared at some point, and was now grazing fern near the other two. Leon approached the horse carefully and examined it for injuries before tying it to a tree next to the other two._

_Nolwenn had noticed her brother's awkwardness, and smiled to herself: Leon could be such a girl's petticoat sometimes... And so easy to read, she added in her mind. As she placed her hand to Ardena's left knee, the girl winced and recoiled. Upon closer inspection, it had suffered quite a nasty shock and was very swollen. A nasty-looking dark purple bruise marred the articulation._

_Nolwenn ripped the bottom of her underskirt and proceeded to bandage Ardena's knee with the scraps of fabric thus created. When her task was completed, she called again for her brother. _

"_Leon, you nitwit, come here, if you please." Leon dragged himself from the horses back to where the two girls were sat. Ardena looked quite recovered. _

"_Ardena, I don't think you'll be able to ride back on your own" professed Nolwenn, "so we'll tie your horse to mine and you'll have to ride back with Leon."_

_She smirked as she noticed her brother's eyes widening and his muscles tensing at the thought. Funnily enough, though, he remained quiet. Ardena, on the other hand, protested vehemently against the proposal:_

"_Oh, no, mylady. There's no need for that. I'll ride back on my own..." She started to stand up to prove her point, but failed miserably and would have fallen in a heap if Leon hadn't caught her as she fell backwards. Nolwenn couldn't help but notice how her brother's cheeks tinged with an innocent blush._

"_It's all settled, then. Leon, get Ardena back to your horse and I'll take care of the other two". _

_The journey back home was slow but uneventful. Ardena was sat across the saddle in front of Leon, her left arm looped around his muscular chest, her head resting against his shoulder. It took a few minutes for the young man to relax, but heenjoyed the warm feeling that grew inside him as Ardena burrowed her head further into his chest._

By Leon's standard, the training session was going abysmally. Paired as usual with the Prince, he couldn't manage to parry his offensives. The sword hit him with the regularity of the blacksmith's hammer on a hot iron. His defence skills were gone through the window, and all he had left was the resolve not to give up under the attack until the session was over. He could just about see Merlin, standing at the back of the field, hissing and wincing as each blow landed with clockwork precision on his shoulders and his chest.

He thought maybe for once Arthur was giving it all out, rather than holding back as Leon often thought was the case. Or maybe his mind was just somewhere else once more and his poor performance in sword fight was rearing its ugly head once again.

Whatever it was, it hurt an awful lot, as the flat of the blade ate in his flesh at every blow. At last he found a tiny window of opportunity as Arthur relented, and threw himself forward in a roar, stopping just short of skewering the prince with his own sword.

The prince smirked as the knight helped him back up. "Training over, people. Get back to the castle."

He patted Sir Leon's shoulder, and the knight winced under the touch. "I'd go and see Gaius if I were you, Leon. This is going to hurt in the morning."

The physician welcomed him heartily, as if he had been expecting him. It wasn't until Sir Leon saw that Merlin stood at the back of the room, grinding some herbs, that he realised it was just what was happening.

Gaius directed the knight to a low bench, asking him to sit down and enquired about his health.

"I... uh..." was all Sir Leon managed to utter. It was embarrassing to be beaten up so badly by the Crown Prince, but there was something really mortifying in requesting assistance for something as trivial as a few bruises and cuts.

"And how is your leg?" The physician asked, purposely steering the conversation to another topic. The knight wasn't fooled, but humoured the old man, telling him of the niggling twitches that would sometimes seize his leg when the weather was cold.

"Well, that is to be expected, sire, but I will make sure Merlin brings you a liniment to sort this out in the next few days. Now, if you don't mind, I'll leave you in the capable hands of my assistant. I'm confident you'll find him more than capable to help you."

Merlin turned a funny shade of crimson as Gaius praised him, and poured the contents of his mortar into a small bowl. The dark green sludgy mixture wobbled as the young servant moved over to the bench and knelt in front of the knight, his eyes dutifully looking down to avoid the knight's gaze.

Sir Leon sighed and removed his shirt before Merlin even had time to ask him to do so. He knew the servant was doing his utmost not to embarrass him, and was grateful for his silent ministrations. As the cool, tingly mixture was applied slowly to each of his wounds, Sir Leon relaxed against the stone wall behind him and forgot about Merlin and the present, delving once more into the dark corners of his memory.

_Nolwenn had been crying all day. The castle was silent and cold, no servant dared ambling along the deserted corridors. The sky outside was grey and the fog that had appeared in the morning had not lifted. The lady was resting in place in the chapel, her body cold and stiff, her hands once so graceful and soft crossed together reverently._

_It had been a shock to all, none the least because it was such a stupid accident. All Ardena knew was that it had involved a cat and a cart. Alfric's despair and wrath was second to none: the cat had been drowned and the cart owner's life disposed of in a similarly gruesome way. As if that would bring any consolation to her family, Ardena thought._

_She had gone out to the village to get something to calm her mistress. She was hurrying back to Nolwenn's quarters, when she heard a drawn out whimper coming from the Lord's quarters. The door was open and, as she hurried past, her eyes caught a glance of something she really shouldn't have witnessed. Her breath hitched for a moment and she hurried back to her mistress' bedside, storing theses ghastly images at the back of her mind. _

_It was nearly midnight. Leon was sat on his bed, pointlessly watching the fire burnt high in the chimney, when he heard a knock on the door. _

_He had hardly had the chance to answer that his visitor entered. As she closed the door behind her, Leon noticed Ardena was carrying a bowl containing a clear, water-like liquid, a small jar and some very clean-looking rags draped across her left arm._

_Silently, she moved towards the table that lay by his bed, setting each item methodically in front of her. _

"_You shouldn't let him get away with this." Her voice rose in the room, gentle yet strong and decisive as if amplified tenfold by some unknown force. Leon did a double take, but the girl had her back turned to him and he couldn't gauge her demeanour._

"_He's grieving, Ardena"_

"_That doesn't give him the right to do what he's done. Not to you, not to your sister, not to anyone else."_

_Leon sighed, closing his eyes tight while his hands turned into fists, his nails digging into his skin. How did she know? As if reading his mind, she answered._

"_I was going back to Nolwenn's room to give her a sleeping draught. Your father's door was ajar." She slowly brought a chair closer to the bed and sat opposite him, looking at him with an air of defiance_

"_How is she?" Leon enquired eagerly, in an effort to change the topic of the conversation. Ardena's fingers teased the hem of his shirt as she lifted it a bit and winced at the sight if revealed. _

"_Distraught. Just like the rest of you." He recoiled as she stood and untied his shirt. She sighed and explained "I just want to make sure those are dressed properly, you don't want to catch d... any infection." Leon's eyes widened a bit, shining a little too brightly in the wavering light of the fire. She very gently lifted the fabric around his chest, ensuring none of it got in contact with the raw skin, and removed the sleeves with equal care before tossing the blood-stain shirt into a corner of the room._

"_What about you?" He questioned in return. Ardena's shoulders tensed a little bit as she grabbed one of the clean cloths and plunged it into the transparent fluid._

"_What do you mean?" _

"_Will you miss her?"_

_She start to dab each and every of the marks on Leon's chest, wincing as he hissed under the touch. _

"_I don't think my feelings are relevant, sire."_

"_I wouldn't have asked if I thought that was true."_

_Ardena sighed deeply and brushed a wayward tear with the back of her hand. "She has been my sole source of comfort for the last five years. I have known her almost as long as I have known my own mother... She always took care of me. She understood. I..." her voice broke slightly, and Leon felt guilty as he saw her shoulders shaking with badly suppressed sobs. He leant forward, his hand trying to take hers to impart some comfort, but she flinched as his fingers brushed her skin, hiding her feelings by dipping the cloth anew in the soothing liquid._

_Again, she traced each and every wound carefully, caringly applying unguent over them to prevent burning flesh yielded as the liquid penetrated the skin, leaving a cool tingling sensation behind._

_He smiled. "This isn't the first time you do this, is it?"_

"_No, it isn't." She answered flatly, almost emotionlessly._

_Leon realised what he had just unwittingly asked and the revelation hit him like a strike of lightning, burning everything inside, until nothing was left but pain and emptiness. _

"_How... Why..." She remained silent, pursuing her ministrations. "You should have said something." He said at last. _

"_I did. Your mother knew. She protected me." She walked over to his linen cabinet and took bandages that she knew would be there. "Well, at least she tried. And now she's gone."_

_Leon just couldn't stand the thought that they'd never noticed. That they'd never cared enough to see qnything beyond the superficial relationship they entertained with Ardena. That she'd been alone all these years, with little love or comfort, and yet had never relented in her care for his sister. He could only guess at what the girl had been through. Knowing his father's temper and his penchant for serving girls, he had a fair idea what she probably had been subjected to._

"_But you're only...". The half-formed sentence left his lips before he even realised it._

"_A servant, I know. Does that mean it matters less?" She asked slightly spitefully, her gaze hitting him square in the face. She had misunderstood his intent. He had meant to say... thirteen._

"_No... Ardena..." He stood suddenly and grabbed her wrists. The girl writhed, trying to escape his hold, sobbing uncontrollably, but to no avail. Unwilling to let go, Leon shushed softly until she calmed down, and embraced her with his arms, stroking her hair gently as she cried against his shoulder. The salty tears licked his own wounds as they remained there, standing in the middle of the room, until the fire burnt out and all that was left was cold and emptiness._

"_It won't happen again" was all he said. And it was all she needed to know._

Merlin was kind enough to strap Sir Leon's chest and shoulders in gauze which would help preserving his skin. With a few kind words for the servant, the knight left the physician's chambers. The sun was setting and dinner had probably already been served in the knights' canteen.

A knight's life was, as Arthur had confirmed earlier, a lonely existence. Sir Leon pondered whether Arthur's life was even lonelier due to the fact that he needed to command the respect of all his men, which left little space for friendships and other close acquaintances.

Although he knew, or rather had guessed at the prince's affections for Morgana's maid, he was fully aware this was a most forbidden alliance, and he swore to himself he would make it his duty to preserve its secrecy, out of respect and gratitude for his future ruler.

Aware he wouldn't find any food left in the canteen, Sir Leon descended into the entrails of the castle, in the direction of the kitchen. On his way, a few servants passed him by, curtsying or nodding in his direction to show their respect to the knight.

As he arrived in the kitchen, the Sir Leon was welcomed by the cook, Sarah. Somehow, Sir Leon had been the only knight in times immemorial to be allowed into the kitchens. Maybe it was because he was the only knight who didn't have a personal manservant nor shared one with other knights. Whatever the reason, he seemed to have acquired over the years a great deal of esteem from the rotund cook, who seemed to harbour some feelings for him.

"Good evening, Sir Leon" she curtsied as low as her back would allow.

"Good evening, Sarah" the knight saluted politely.

"Are you still hungry after that lovely dinner the girls prepared for you, Sire?"

"I'm afraid I've missed dinner altogether, Sarah, and hope you'd be so kind as to let me grab a few scraps..."

"Grab a few scraps, sire? Surely not! Winifred, bring a chair for Sir Leon. Lucinda, pour him a tankard of ale and warm up a couple of the quails that are left over from the king's dinner."

An army of kitchen maids swarmed around the knight, who soon found himself seated at his own private table in the kitchens.

"Sarah, wouldn't you and your girls mind to come and join me for a second?"

"You know full well this isn't allowed, sire. We're not allowed to eat from the kitchen supplies, let alone sit at a knight's table."

"Then let me thank you for this sumptuous dinner." The knight stood for a moment as the cook approached and gave her a very chaste and innocent kiss on the cheek. The woman, who was about twenty years his elder, blushed mightily as her aides giggled in the background.

_The girls were walking briskly down the main road, in the direction of the fabric shop. Nolwenn needed a new evening dress made for a very important banquet that was to take place soon. She secretly hoped to have one made for Ardena too, as her friend and confidante was in dire need of some new clothes. Besides, her father didn't know anything about the price of silk, wool and hemp nowadays and would be none the wiser if she bought two lengths of fabric rather than one. _

_As they crossed the threshold, Ardena couldn't help but have a little fun at the expense of her mistress. She went straight to the shelves where all the silks were kept, and chose a little purple roll which she thought would be particularly becoming on Nolwenn._

"_I am pretty sure Hubert will have eyes for none but you if you choose this one, mylady." Nolwenn noticed the smile and the use of her proper title and knew at once this was all in jest, but blushed all the same. The affairs of her heart were no secret to Ardena, and her confidante knew just how much the new dress could mean. She picked a dark shade of green and showed it to her maid. _

"_What about this one?"_

"_Oh, no. It gives your skin a really green hue... Surely Hubert won't propose if you choose that." She chortled as Nolwenn gestured to silence her on the matter._

"_No, I meant for you, you limpet!"_

"_Surely, not, Nolwenn, this is way too expensive for a servant." She walked to the far end of the shop, where coarser, woollen cloths were kept and chose the finest she could find amongst the dreary shades of brown and grey that were abounding. _

"_What about this one?" She asked, holding a fine pale grey roll of tiretaine._

"_I'm sure it will do just fine." Nolwenn answered, a baffling smile appearing on her lips. _

_Ardena had hardly had time to register the peculiarity of her mistress' smirk that she felt a strong hand grab her wrist and found herself pulled backwards and hidden behind a thick curtain. Before she even had time to emit a sound to raise the alarm, another strong but strangely soft and gentle hand was placed on her mouth._

"_Sssshhhhhh..." _

_Her eyes needed to adapt to the newfound darkness and thus she couldn't see what was going on. A wave of panic filled her, until she heard her mysterious assailant whisper:_

"_Ardena, calm down. It's just me." Leon felt her relaxing and, in turn, let go of her wrist and withdrew his palm from her mouth._

"_Leon, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Ardena whispered angrily._

_The young man shoulders slumped at her tone. "I wanted to take you out, today."_

"_Take me out?"_

_He nodded, hesitant and looking very insecure about the whole thing but failed to notice the emphasis in her response. "Your horse and mine are waiting at the end of the street, by the East gate. I thought I'd take you for a ride to the woods."_

"_What about your sister? She can't just walk back to the castle on her own!"_

"_I've asked Melissend to wait for her outside the shop and to wait on her for the rest of the day. Besides, Nolwenn said she was happy..." Ardena smiled at the thought. Leon had obviously gone to great lengths to organise this outing, going as far as asking permission to his sister, which she knew much have cost him greatly as Nolwenn would have no doubt taken a lot of pleasure in teasing him about it._

_She felt butterflies rise inside her as he took her hand and led her out from behind the relative safety and intimacy of the screen. They crossed the shop hand in hand, Nolwenn beaming as Leon's face grew redder and redder, until they left the shop. _

_As they crossed the threshold, Ardena let go of the soft, gentle and reassuring hand that was wrapped around her fingers. She felt a pang of guilt and regret when she noticed her move had hurt Leon's feelings, but hastened to set the record right. _

"_I'm just a servant, Leon... You do need to be careful." _

_They walked silently side by side until they reached the end of the street where, as promised, Leon's stallion and here small gelding were waiting. _

_The ride in the woods was one of the most pleasant Ardena had ever experienced. The wind hit her face, cool and soothing against her skin. She felt happy, truly happy, and free beyond all measure. It had been a long time since she had last been allowed to ride out on her own... Well, almost on her own. _

_Leon had let her go past about two miles ago. She hadn't had to push the little gelding very hard to pass him, and knew without the shadow of a doubt that the young man had let her fly past him. She ran ahead of him for a while, unaware of time and place, just enjoying her canter, brushing past the leaves in the blooming trees._

_All of a sudden, she came to a halt. Leon stopped at her side. Her eyes were set on the clearing in front of them. Her face was beaming with happiness and a broad smile lightened her features. Leon reflected he had never seen her grin so frantically, and felt all warm and fuzzy at the idea that his mad endeavour was having the desired effect. _

"_This is beautiful..." was all she said. _

_Leon jumped off his horse, and helped Ardena down, sliding her delicately onto the floor. His slightly shaky hand grabbed her and he led her under a nearby oak tree. He sat against the trunk and pulled Ardena against him, so her back rested on his chest, her head nicely cushioned against his shoulder. Had he not been so nervous, he might have enjoyed it, but the knot that had wrung itself in his stomach kept reminding him of its presence, preventing him from fully taking in the moment. _

_Ardena, on the other hand, was simply happy. The sun's rays were just about peaking through the branches and leaves of the old tree. The murmur of the water running by, the birds in the trees, the swishing leaves in the light summer breeze all coalesced to create an idyllic setting. Leon's hand trailed lazily in her hair, brushing down the straight locks behind her ear._

"_Why did you bring me here?" She asked, with what she hoped would be perceived as a touch of innocence._

"_I...uh..." was all Leon could say. Why was it so difficult for him ever to express anything other than rational facts and thoughts?_

_An amused smile crept upon Ardena's lips, but Leon remained silent and she hoped he hadn't misinterpreted her question. Uncomfortable minutes ticked by in silence, before Leon took a deep breath and answered with a most unexpected question: _

"_Have you ever thought of leaving the castle? Of going somewhere else to build a life of your own?"_

"_Why would I want to do that?" She answered earnestly. In all those years, she had never even thought about it, had never considered that this was an option available to her. "My family's here, my friends are here. Where would I go? What would I do? I'm not that useful or knowledgeable, you know." She paused for an instant before adding "I'm happy where I am"._

"_But surely... With the way...", he cringed at the thought, "... you've been treated at the castle..." He left the sentence in suspense, unable to find words to express his train of thoughts. _

"_Well, I think the last couple of years have gone rather well." She smiled. "I've been granted a fortnightly right of visit to my parents and a day off on every other week, I've been offered the same education as your sister and Alfric..." And the evidence hit her. It had happened so incrementally that she hadn't really thought about it that way, but now she enumerated all those things, she just came to a realisation. "Oh!" Leon was behind all these things, and she just hadn't noticed. Something lurched in the pit of her stomach._

"_I'm not like my father, you know?" Leon seemed lost in his own world, and Ardena couldn't quite work out what he was getting at. "I don't force people to... work for me. I don't coerce staff to do anything that's not in their brief." He snorted loudly, apparently frustrated and embarrassed. "I certainly don't take girls for an afternoon out on a regular basis." His hand disappeared from her hair, hanging loosely at his side. "I don't want you to feel that, just because I'm Lord Alfric's son..." _

_He didn't have time to finish the sentence that Ardena had a fit of laughter, her body bent forward as she fought the giggle that crept up her chest. Leon was mortified and hurt by her reaction but couldn't do much other than ride it out, as the chuckling girl was pretty much sat on his lap. After what felt like an eternity, she turned round, and placed her knees on both sides of his legs to face him. Still laughing softly, she brushed of the tears that were brimming in her eyes. Leon's sullen expression and dark eyes sobered her up a bit. _

"_Leon, you're very sweet, but, gods, you're such an idiot sometimes..." She chuckled, resolutely pleased with herself. _

"_And what do you mean by that?" His tone was biting and affronted, and his sulk said as much._

"_I'll show you." Ardena looped her arms around Leon's neck and lent forward to take his lips in a gentle kiss. Leon's eyes widened and he returned her kiss with eager hesitation. At last, Ardena broke their embrace, only to gaze into the blue depths of his eyes. _

"_Really?" Leon asked, and Ardena felt her heart drop inside her chest as she picked up on the raw, sad and lonely accents hidden in his question. She beamed back at him. _

"_You don't have to try and convince me, I'm already yours". _

_Giggling, she threw herself back into his arms and kissed him with all the passion she could muster._

Sarah kept him in the kitchens for quite a while, bringing plateful after plateful of delicious foods that had been discarded by the royal table. Sir Leon had only been allowed to eat such fine foods at banquets before, and never in such profusion.

At last, he managed to extract himself from the kitchens and regain his personal quarters. The youngest knights were subjected to an early curfew, and the dormitories were already plunged in darkness. Sir Leon, being one of the older and most respected knights benefited from the comfort of private quarters and was unique in not sharing his accommodation with any other knight. It was on evenings like this that he most missed the presence of a manservant. He had always found it demeaning to subject another human being to such menial tasks as dressing and undressing him and tending to his every need.

Looking at the clothes he had discarded on the floor the previous evening, he sighed and grabbed the scattered items, placing them in a large wicker basket that had been left there by Juliana, one of the laundry maids. He removed his breeches and added them to the pile of clothes, picked up a pair of loose and comfortable linen trousers and put them on hurriedly. His shoulders were still aching, so he very carefully removed his shirt, avoiding lifting his arms much and decided against wearing a shirt overnight.

He picked up the laundry basket and left it just outside his door, in the knowledge that its contents would be returned in the same location, cleaned and ironed, in a couple of day. Sir Leon then went to tend to the fire, adding a couple of logs to ensure the room would remain relatively warm until morning.

At last he allowed himself to lie down on the soft mattress, pulling the fine covers up to his shoulders. He had hardly dropped his head on the eider down pillows that he fell asleep.

_The wind blew bitterly over the battlements. The weather would surely turn to rain by the end of the__ day. It was a dreary day, reflected Sir Leon, as all happiness seemed to vanish from his vein, leaving behind only sorrow and a cold, sharp blade inside his heart. _

_Ardena was leaning against the cold, damp stone wall. Her dishevelled hair flew around her face and her fingers were blue. Leon took both her hands in his and blew softly on them in a futile attempt to warm them up. He knew it was as pointless as any words he may have said to her. He would be leaving for Camelot on Monday, to start his training as a knight. _

_Part of him was really happy to leave this God-forsaken place for the relative safety and warmth of the kingdom's capital and it would be a great honour to serve under the king. His departure would even had been a joyous event had it not been for Ardena. Leon knew that the pain of their separation would be unbearable, but he couldn't help thinking that he, at least, had the prospects of a better life to look forward to._

_They had been meeting on the round path at the top of the castle at dawn every Friday since their first day out in the forest. There were obviously other days out, and other meetings in Leon's quarters, but they knew they had to be very careful so as not to be spotted by keen-eyed and affable servants who could report them to Lord Alfric. On Fridays, the round path was guarded by one old man who couldn't see at 50 paces and took over an hour to carry out a whole round. _

"_Ardena" he sighed "you know I have to go away. We've talked about it many times." Leon turned round to rest the palm of his hands on the crenel, sullenly admiring the tiny village below as the bitter wind bit at his face. He tensed as familiar arms wrapped around his waist and relaxed into the embrace. "When Nolwenn gets married, you'll be free to do as you please. She's promised me she'd let you go if you wanted to join me in Camelot."_

_Leon could feel Ardena's shoulders pushing rhythmically against his back as she sobbed silently. _

"_Leon, it's my father..."_

_The young man turned round swiftly, capturing her in his own reassuring embrace. _

"_What's the matter?"_

"_He's dying." Leon frowned. The bailiff had always been of a frail constitution and, now he tried to remember, he hadn't seen him for a while at councils._

"_Let me speak to Wulfric, I'm sure he..." She interrupted him:_

"_I already paid for your father's physician to see him but he said there's nothing he can do."_

_Her whole body shook in his stock-still arms as he tenderly kissed her hair._

"_Is there anything I can do?"_

_Her head shot up, to come down just as swiftly into the haven of his chest, shaking frantically against his shoulders. _

"_I can't... I can't ask you. It's too much... too much to ask..."_

"_Anything, Ardena. All you need to do is ask."_

_It was with baited breath that he arrived at the bailiff's house a couple of days later. Ardena had been granted the day off, as was customary every first and third Sunday of the month. _

_He knocked tentatively on the door, withdrawing his knuckles quickly as if the door was on fire. A middle-aged woman opened the door. Her hair was wrapped in a sturdy brown cloth. Her features were not unbecoming, but certainly no match for her daughters. She gasped when she realised who the visitor was._

"_Good evening, sire." She opened the door further, bidding him entrance to the dimly lit room._

_Leon looked over his shoulder to ensure he would not be seen, and stepped into the main room. In the corner by the fire, the bailiff lay on a bed, white and clammy in spite of the roaring fire. Ardena was sat by his side, applying a gentle pressure on her father's chest as he made to sit up for the Lord's son. To Leon's surprise, she did not turn round to greet him. Leon stepped as closely to the bed as he could his hand softly squeezing Ardena's shoulder._

"_I am sorry to hear you are still poorly, sire" he offered politely. "I came to speak with your daughter, if you do not mind." The old man nodded but Leon could feel his unease. He took Ardena's hand and led her on the other side of the fireplace, where her father would still be able to see them but would not hear their whispers._

"_Ardena, I've brought something for you."_

"_I told you not to, Leon."_

"_Listen", his murmur was a bit too forceful and so was his hold on her wrist. He defeated face rose up to look at him and he saw lovely pools of tears glistening in the dancing light of the fire. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning. I just want to know you will be safe and well." _

"_Of course I will, sire." She glanced at her father in edgeways. The old man might have been very ill, but he wasn't missing any of their private entreaties. She knew the formal address would hurt Leon more than she wished to, but her father's opinion still mattered to her, and she could not bear the thought of disappointing him by seeming too inviting._

_From underneath his blue cloak, Leon produced a small, finely engraved leather purse._

"_This", he said, "is for your father's treatment". He placed the bag in Ardena's hand and forced her to accept it by closing her palms onto it and pressing his hands over hers. "I don't care how much it costs or who you bring here. I'll turn a blind eye and won't tell a soul about this. I just want you to be happy."_

_Breath hitched, she dropped the purse on the table near them. The leather strap loosened slightly, and golden hues shone across the room. _

"_Your good heart will be your undoing, sire" a weak voice commented from the other side of the room. Ardena's mother came in and, noticing the exchange that had taken place gasped and placed a hand over her mouth, tears pouring from her blue eyes. She went and sat by her husband, adding to Leon's unease. This was really not going as he had planned. He sighed. Again, he grabbed Ardena's hand and took her to the nearest seat, a bit further away from the fire. He knelt down in front of her, strategically choosing his position so her parents would not witness the exchange that was about to take place._

_Again, his right hand plunged under his cloak and remerged holding a small object, tightly clasped in his palm. Ardena could not make out what it was until Leon's gentle, white fingers uncurled, revealing a beautiful gold locket with rubies and diamonds representing Lord Alfric's coat of arms._

_She sobbed at the sheer sight of it, instantly recognising it, having spent so many days admiring it on its previous owner._

"_This", Leon locked his gaze on her, barely breathing, "is for you. I can't bear the thought that I'm abandoning you, and I just want you to know how much you mean to me."_

"_I can't..." Ardena answered in a whisper, "This was your mother's. I can't... It doesn't belong to me..."_

"_Nolwenn knows I'm giving it to you, Ardena. She's happy for you to have it."_

"_But... I am not worthy of it."_

_Leon felt as if he had been run through with the sharpest knife. His lip quivered but he managed to retort: "You are worth everything to me, Ardena. Just take it. Please. If _I_ mean anything to you, please take it."_

_He let the delicate chain dance in around his fingers before opening her palm and placing the precious artefact in it, closing her weathered fingers over it. Shuddering with uncontrollable sobs, Ardena lovingly caressed his neck but withdrew her hand and let it drop by her side when she noticed her father's disapproving gaze behind Leon._

_Leon had to fight with all his might not to ravish her lips and embrace her tightly. The need and want to console her was consuming him, burning inside like a hot poker inside his chest, eating him alive._

"_One day, I will come back for you, Ardena. I can't ask you to wait for me. But I will be back. And if you ever need anything, just come to Camelot and ask for me. I'm forever yours."_

_Ardena closed her eyes tightly to prevent any more tears from escaping. The cold metal pulsed inside her hand, as if it had a life of its own. Her knuckles went white as her fingernails dug into her palm, leaving little moon-shaped marks on her skin. Hand and eyes flew open again and she gazed adoringly at the necklace, unable to behold Leon's face. Slowly, she fingered the golden chain tantalisingly, and carefully attached the necklace around her neck, tucking the locket under her coarse dress._

_Leon stood. "I think I need to go." His voice trembled, and she nodded back in tacit agreement. He gave her his hand and helped her get back to her feet before leading her to the door. Once again, he ensured his back was turned towards the bailiff and his wife and murmured his most tender goodbyes. He placed one last chaste kiss on her forehead, pulled the door lock up and disappeared into the cold night, never turning back._


	7. Chapter 7

The sun wasn't yet up, but sleep eluded Sir Leon. As usual these days his dreams had been peppered with remembrances of times past, and dreams of what could have been.

The knight sat up on the edge of his bed, his shirt loosely untied at the front. He scratched his scalp and repeatedly passed his hand through his hair in an attempt to tame a few wild wavy locks into submission and to brush away the overriding feeling of guilt that kept rearing its ugly head.

The room was cold, the fire long extinguished by the cold breeze that blew in through the windows. Setting his bare feet carefully on the icy cold floor, he let the freezing sensation climb up his legs, straightened his back and lifted his hands up in a stretch. At last he stood, and moved over to the chimney, poking through the ashes to check for any ember still glowing beneath. He wouldn't be in his chambers much today, so there wasn't any point in lighting a fire yet.

Having used the last of the logs he had brought back from the supply store a couple of days ago, his hand groped for the log basket so he could leave it by the door as a reminder. To his surprise, his palm met with the rough and mossy, crumbling surface of dried wood logs that seemed to have appeared overnight. Slightly baffled, he carefully disposed of the ashes strewn across the hearth, and stoked the fireplace, so the fire would be ready to be lit by the time he came back from his rounds this afternoon.

Grabbing a clean pair of breaches and a freshly pressed shirt from his wardrobe, he was starting to get dressed when he heard the soft sound of knuckles rasping against his chambers' door.

"Come in" he invited absentmindedly whilst tying his breaches around his waist.

As she came in with her tray, Gwen couldn't help but startle at the sight in front of her. It was improper for female servants to attend to knights in their chambers, and she could sure see why, for Sir Leon had not yet had the chance to put on a shirt, although she was glad he was actually half dressed.

"Good morning Gwen." He greeted her, oblivious of the sharp blush that crept upon her cheeks.

"Morning, sire." The maid averted her eyes, proceeding to the table instead and setting the tray on the table. "I've brought you breakfast, Sir."

The knight turned towards her, frowning.

"I don't need anybody to bring me breakfast, Gwen." He scolded with a hint of annoyance.

"I know, sire." The maid answered sheepishly. "And I also know I'm not usually allowed in this part of the castle, but you asked me to let you know if the Lady Ardena was likely to go, and I needed a cover story." Her answer was polite, but very frank and to the point and she bit her lip as she realised it might be interpreted as a lack of respect towards the knight.

"I see." He paused for a moment before adding. "I'm sorry if I was a bit short, or if I offended you Guinevere." Putting his shirt on, he continued on his train of thought. "Do you think she'll go soon?"

"I would say in the next hour or so, sire."

He turned to her in surprise.

"That soon?"

"I'm sorry, sire, should I have come any earlier?"

"No, it's fine, Gwen, thank you very much." Sir Leon strode to the door, leaving the maid behind in the empty chambers. She was just about to grab a bit of the bread she had brought, knowing that the knight would probably not touch his breakfast anyway, when his head popped through the door and his quiet voice made her jump.

"Gwen, did you bring me firewood by any chance?"

"No, sire. Should I have?"

"No, no. It's of no consequence. Thanks." The knight disappeared again, his footsteps loud in the early morning. Bewildered, Gwen hadn't moved when Sir Leon reappeared once more in the doorway.

"I nearly forgot… Feel free to help yourself to the breakfast, I won't have time to eat it, and I'd hate to see it go to waste." He winked at the maid and ran down the corridor in the direction of the royal quarters.

Turning back towards the table, Morgana's maid looked at the breakfast pensively and took a small piece of bread, all giddy at the thought a knight had just winked at her.

* * *

The knight stood at the door, his hand on the latch, his forehead gently resting against the cool oak, in the same fashion he had adopted all those years ago. He wondered why the feel and support of the wood against his face had always had this calming, strengthening effect on him and, suddenly realising how stupid he must have looked in that position, he freed the latch from the notch and slowly opened the door.

Ardena stood at the side of the bed, tidying the sheets and folding the blankets neatly on top. The dull, foggy light that flooded through the window seemed to wrap her in a gentle mist accentuating the glow of her diaphanous skin. A few stray rays of sunshine brought her long wavy hair to life, which flowed down her back all the way to her tiny waist.

In the dark green dress Gwen had borrowed from Morgana, she looked taller and slimmer than ever, as if all these years had stretched her further. Leon realised that he hadn't really had a chance to observe Ardena since that fateful night at the tavern.

Of course, he had spotted her when she was being harassed by the uncouth patron and later as he went to pay her a visit at the tavern, but those brief encounters paled in comparison with the woman he was admiring right now.

Her fine hands, not unlike those of his mother's, neatly folded the bed linen, flattening creases and straightening corners. Her whole body radiated with a grace and serenity that he had only ever witnessed in ladies of noble birth.

The knight berated himself internally. She should never have found herself in such a situation in the first place, she should never have gone through all this alone. Something snapped inside him at the thought that he had failed her, forgotten and buried all the years before Camelot, good and bad alike, until there was nothing left. And now all the good in his life had come back in one go, and he couldn't comprehend how he ever had the strength to leave her behind and how he could possibly bear the thought of letting her go again.

The linen was all neatly folded, and Ardena moved to the dressing table and picked up her shoes, that Gwen had taken the care to clean and dry. She walked back towards the bed and put on the worn out slippers.

Sir Leon startled, realising he had yet to say anything:

"Are you leaving?"

"I believe I must, sire. I have imposed on your hospitality long enough." She shook her head and turned to him with a sweet but sad smile.

"You really shouldn't have asked royal staff to look after me for so long, L..." The first letter of his name hung in the air just long enough to warm his heart. Underneath the plain, subservient face was still hid the lively soul he had cherished years ago. Ardena blushed at the faux-pas.

"I didn't have to ask them."

"Of course, you didn't, sire." She compensated by accentuating the polite formulation ever so slightly, smiling knowingly. _You've always had a way with people, Leon. They respect you and would do anything for you..._

"Ardena, I... Uh..."

"Are you lost for words, sire?" She taunted, her back turned towards him so he couldn't see her grin, but her tone badly betrayed the familiarity and playfulness of the retort. To her surprise, he didn't chuckled back, and she turned round a bit quickly, her hand resting against the bedpost to keep her balance.

The knight looked serious, almost grave.

"Ardena, what..." he sighed, unable to find words that would convey the exact meaning he wanted to put behind his question without offending her. He knew what she would think, what it would sound like. The knight stepped forward, bridging the gap between them till they were mere inches apart. He grabbed her wrist with his left hand his head turned towards the window as if to find some elusive inspiration somewhere outside. At last his gaze fell on her face, expectantly raised towards him, and he instantly regretted what he was about to ask.

Ardena could read the feelings on her Leon's face as though they were etched in his features: confusion, indecisiveness, longing, sadness and… guilt? As his thumb brushed against the inner side of her wrist, she felt her heart pumping furiously, waiting for that instant that would break the spell forever, for Ardena knew for sure nothing good could ever happen to them. Not where they were now, not after all that had happened.

At last, Sir Leon's lips parted and uttered those few all important words that seemed to cause him so much turmoil:

"Ardena", he started again, "what happened to the locket?"

If she felt like she has just been slapped across the face, the young woman showed no trace of it, but Sir Leon knew by the hitched rhythm of her pulse against his thumb that she had been shaken to the core, and he understood instantly that out of all the things he could have asked or said, this was just the worst one he could have chosen.

He loosened his grip on her wrist and she withdrew her hand, sitting back on the bed, her face as composed as ever.

"Do you want it back?"

His eyes widened in shock, she had got it all wrong. She thought he wanted it back, she thought he was withdrawing everything he had once offered her.

"No! I just… Ardena, I just…" Sir Leon knelt in front of her, burying his head on her lap. For a moment, her hands combed through his wavy mane comfortingly.

"I'm afraid I had to sell it two winters back. I had had nothing to eat for a week or so… I know I didn't get a good price for it, but I had no other choice."

Sir Leon mumbled something in answer but she couldn't quite catch it. Slowly cradling his face, she pulled him back up so she could see his face.

Her features were composed and resolute. Ardena didn't look angry, she didn't look upset or angry or hysterical or desperate. She just looked sad, but calm and determined.

"Sire, I must go".

"No!" Her finger softly pressed against his lips to silence him.

"Yes." She reaffirmed. "I _must_ go."

Sir Leon's shoulders slouched. He knew this would all come down to that and had come prepared.

"I've spoken to Roland… Your job is safe for as long as you want it…" He let out, defeated. Ardena snorted.

"I bet you've paid him handsomely for that, I know it wasn't economical for him to keep me much longer."

Leon reverted to looking through the window. He could face dragons, magical creatures, mercenaries and soldiers from the mightiest army without blinking or thinking twice about it, but right now, he just couldn't face her.

And that's how he knew how he had come to forget. Like all the other knights, he had been picked for duty quite young and trained to perform each and every move till they became instincts rather than carefully thought out actions. Far from their families, knights came to forge lasting friendships with each other, but had little meaningful social contact outside of their own circle. They were used to the thought they may die, used not to think beyond the present, nor to look back at the past, lest they remembered.

So they forgot. Forgot how it felt to have feelings, forgot how to express them and, above all, how to live with them. And there he found himself, discovering a whole new world he had so carefully and faithfully pushed aside for over ten years.

And it hurt. More than arrow wounds and swords slashes and blisters and bruises from the blows. It hurt because there was no cure, no way out.

Leaving him to his torpor, Ardena stood, pressing his shoulder as she went past and made her way to the door. She had discussed her exit plan with Merlin in the morning and they had agreed that, with the hustle and bustle of the castle at this time of day, it was very unlikely anyone would notice a new court lady in the crowd. Furthermore, guards were unlikely to stop a lady innocently leaving the castle, as ladies of the court enjoyed a privileged status which saw them come and go as they pleased.

"Ardena, wait!" She turned back, her hand already on the latch. Leon was still on his knees, his back turned to her. He stood up and crossed the distance between them in an instant, grabbing her wrist with a bit too much intensity.

"Promise me you'll take care of yourself." Sir Leon leant closer to her, his breath warm and comforting against her face until they were but an inch apart. He wanted to kiss her wildly, to hold her in his arms so tight she might turn blue, and never to let her go. So his heart broke into a thousand pieces when he felt her hand push away against his chest, just below his heart. He heard the latch clunk heavily as it was lifted from its cradle.

"Farewell, Leon." Ardena lifted herself onto her toes. Her lips brushed against the knight's cheek, and lingered into a small kiss for barely a second. In an instant, she had disappeared, and the door closed itself again, the latch bumping back into place.

Sir Leon's forehead came once more in contact with the wooden panel, except this time he found no comfort in its touch, only emptiness.

* * *

As she passed under the main gate, Ardena turned back once more to get a last glance at the castle. It was unlikely she would ever set foot in it again, but would forever cherish those precious moments and be eternally thankful for the care and attention she had received.

Once she crossed the draw bridge, she treaded lightly all the way to the tavern. Avoiding the main entrance, she crept through the side entrance used by carts and visitors on horseback and crossed the yard, her green dress gathering mud around the hem. She reached the stables and, walking alongside, stopped in front of the last enclosure. Carefully patting the tavern's horse away from the side, she stepped over the straw bedding that she would need to clear up later.

In the corner, she carefully removed the straw which formed a little heap, to reveal a coarse wool blanket. Unfolding it carefully to one side, her hand dug into the secret hole thus concealed and retrieved a travel bad, _her_ bag. Carefully, she extracted the servant dress Gwen had given her on her previous visit to the castle, and delved further to take out the only dress she now had left. It was rather worn out, but it would do until she could find enough money to buy some fabric, or maybe a second-hand dress from one of the farmer's wives, who were often on the lookout for a quick buck come the winter.

Undressing quickly, she pulled the coarse itchy fabric over her head, and tied her apron behind her back before quickly folding the green dress and shoving it back in the bag, covering it with the servant outfit. She drew the strings of the bag and looked at it for a minute or so, before reaching back for the brown bag and rummaging frantically, disrupting any semblance of order inside. Her fingers found it first, and her heart stilled at the coldness of the metal against her fingertips. Reverently, she took the item out of the bag and clasped it, her eyes riveted to it.

The locket was only a couple of inches long, and opened through a little hook at the top. The long gold chain looped around her fingers, its fine links gliding against her skin. She didn't need to look inside anymore to know what was there. She brought the locket to her lips and kept it there, drawing strength and support from it. Tears fell down onto the golden pebble in her hand but she did not will them away. Not anymore.

Shaking herself out of her own desperation, Ardena wipe her eyes with the back of her sleeves, and polished the locket lightly before carefully burying it at the bottom of her bag. Standing up, she dusted her dress lightly before walking back to the tavern. If Roland were indeed to keep her, she should at least prove herself to be useful, worthy of the hefty sum she knew had been laid down for her sake.


	8. Chapter 8

_**AN: Thank you to all who reviewed or added this story to their favourites. Special thanks to BM for keeping me motivated and putting up with me :)**_

_** Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. Unfortunately I've been very busy and struck by a nasty bout of writer's block. I'm still not entirely happy with this chapter, and it's not particularly exciting, but there's more to come ahead.**_

_**Disclaimer: Merlin and its characters are the property of the BBC and Shine Ltd. I'm only borrowing the characters.**_

_**And in case anyone wants to know what Ardena is singing, the song is called Fhear a Bhata (by Rebecca Pidgeon).  
**_

* * *

A cold breeze swept over the battlements, whistling over the vertiginous curtain walls. It was a bright winter day, although bitterly cold. As he pushed open the door to the chemin de ronde, barely out of breath in spite of the long run up, Sir Leon was momentarily blinded by the bright sunshine that poured over Camelot, tentatively mitigating the wind chill that took over his face and fingers.

Blowing over the tips of his fingers to warm them up, and tightening the cloak a bit around his neck, the knight moved over to the edge of the battlement, where he had once fought against the mighty dragon, and singed his hair in the process.

The light breeze, fiercer at such altitude, made his locks dance around his face. As he leant forward, resting his forearms against the parapet, the knight couldn't help but gasp in wonder at the hustle and bustle of the lower town.

These were the people he lived for, the people his only purpose in life was to protect against foreign enemies and local foes. There was a man pulling a cart against the flow of young maids shopping in the market. Fishmongers and butchers shouted to attract patrons to their stalls, a few women of loose morals paraded in front of unsuspecting, or rather disregarding men and a small group of older but just as lowly drunkards hailing passers-by to win a few coins that would too soon been spent on more mead and sweetened wine.

Was it all his life was reduced to? Caring from afar for people whose existence was no more than a cog in the works of the kingdom, whose lives were so insignificant that his was worth tens of theirs? There had to be more to it.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" a familiar voice asked at his side.

Sir Leon's head snapped to his left, only to see the Crown Prince standing by him, Arthur's stance imitating his own.

"Aren't you supposed to run the training session this morning, Sire?" the knight asked.

Arthur's hand dismissed the question as he answered: "Nevermind that, Leon, I've left Alaric in charge. He'll help them brush up on their mace skills and I dare say he was rather pleased to be trusted enough to run his own session."

Sir Leon nodded in agreement. The chance for a knight to get noticed and gain rank was rare enough. He sometimes still pondered how he himself had managed to climb up the ladder and become a trusted counsel to the king. As if he could read his mind, the Prince answered.

"You've always been different, Leon. Quiet and attentive, you always pick up on the detail everyone else has neglected. My father trusts you. In his eyes, you're a loyal, disciplined, right-hand man. I sometimes think he trusts you more than me… Well, I guess you don't go against my father's word as often as I do." Leon snorted derisively.

"What about you?" he asked back.

"What about me? Well, I'm his son but I don't think that bears much weight…"

"No, I meant, what do you think, about me?"

The Prince frowned at him, unsure how to answer. He let out a heavy sigh, his head dropping low against his chest, deep in thought. It took him a while to formulate an answer that would try and describe how he felt. To be fair, no one, other than Merlin, ever seemed to care what he thought, so he had pushed all these sore subjects at the back of his mind. Being part of a royal family came with a heavy burden and one of its worst facets, amongst other things, was an incommensurable solitude very few people could understand. Somehow Merlin did, and Arthur was starting to wonder if Sir Leon had also observed it.

"I could tell you you're one of the best knights I've ever worked with (I can't say I've trained you, if anything you've taught me some tricks of the trade!), which would be true, but I don't think that answers your question."

Sir Leon shook his head as Arthur sighed again.

"I honestly think there's much more to you than meets the eye. And I guess the recent events have just comforted me in that opinion. In a way…"

"What?" Sir Leon turned towards the prince, intrigued by the sudden interruption and Arthur's confused expression.

"Nah. It doesn't matter."

"It does to me. Whatever you're thinking, I'd like to hear it, Sire."

Arthur smiled. Sir Leon wasn't the only one to use a polite title to get what he wanted.

"Alright. In a way, you remind me of Merlin."

Sir Leon smirked at the name of the servant. If Arthur thought he'd be upset to be compared with his servant, he couldn't be more wrong. The boy had certainly proved time and time again how loyal and faithful he was, and the knight considered it an honour to be akin to him.

Arthur looked at him, slightly puzzled, but continued:

"I don't know what it is about both of you. There's so much beneath the surface, so much more than meets the eye… On most days, it totally passes me by and then, something happens and I see a different side to your personalities. I… Well, I know it's probably none of my business, but, sometimes, I wish you both trusted me enough to tell me whatever it is that hides behind the mask."

Arthur's head rose towards the horizon, in a conscious effort to ignore how much of himself he was disclosing.

"When I suggested you could come and talk to me anytime, I meant it Leon. It's lonely up where I stand. There's no space for what I want or what I think. There's no space for friends, because no one can be my equal and talk to me as such and, because apparently, all I'll ever need is loyalty, respect and trust from my subjects. "

"Arthur, you know you've got all that already, don't you? And so much more."

Arthur nodded in response as Leon lifted his hands, intently staring at his fingernails as if they held much of his wisdom. It's not until Leon started talking again that Arthur noticed he had used his first name to address him and he then knew the knight had read between the lines and understood the deeper meaning of friendship Arthur had tried to impart to them.

"I know how you feel. I've been here long enough to see the rest of them come and go… In the end, I'm always the only one standing. At the end of the day, I take the young ones out for a drink; I tell them a few stories and then I get back to my quarters and start all over again the next day."

"Why do you do it, then?"

"Because it's my duty and purpose in life?"

Arthur gave him a smirk and a very dubious look.

"Honestly, I don't know". The knight's stance stiffened noticeably and his features hardened as he noticed something down below them in the lower town.

"Arthur," the word slipped out of his mouth unbidden, "why did you come up here?

"Not much, really. I just wanted to make sure you were alright, and to thank you."

"Thank me?"

Arthur nodded "For heeding my words and sorting yourself out, or at least pretending to."

Sir Leon smiled back. "Am I so transparent?"

The Prince cocked an eyebrow but didn't answer.

* * *

Ardena pushed back the thin woollen blanket and removed stray bits of straw that clung to the material before folding it in four and tucking it into the corner. Gently patting her way around her co-dweller, letting the horse's breath steam over her cold hands, she reached for the hidden bag and pulled out her two borrowed dresses, gathering the edges of the servant's outfit into a bundle to contain them both.

The morning was icy but sunny and, come what may, she would get the dresses back to Gwen, as she had already kept them for too long. She rushed the bag back into the straw-covered recess and sighed, before coming face-to-face with the horse again.

"How do I look, Mitchell?" The small beast gave her an appraising look and neighed softly.

"Hmmm", she answered. "You always say that… I think you're lying to me. I know I look a right mess." She spat in her hand and vainly attempted to smooth her hair. Grabbing her bundle, she set off towards the washhouse.

The sun was already quite high in the sky. She had overslept a bit, as Roland had given her the morning off. That meant she was going to work most of the night of course, but she didn't mind, and even came to relish the opportunity, as this meant she'd be indoors and close to the fire for most of the night.

The streets were busier than she expected given the temperatures, and she was surprised to see about half a dozen women already kneeling on the cold stone of the washhouse.

Ardena knelt at the edge of the basin, leaving some distance between herself and the older gossips who were cleaning rough skirts about twice the size of hers. They were chattering away happily commenting on all the hear-say that was abundant in this part of town. Ardena listened absent-mindedly, chuckling at the misrepresentation the older women made of the life at court. She hadn't stayed very long in the castle nor met many people, but she strongly doubted that Prince Arthur had been caught taking dance lessons or that dragon meat had been served at banquet recently. One of the matrons gave her a quick glanced before enquiring.

"Where ya from, girl? I ain't seen you 'round these parts before".

Ardena guessed that was true. She hadn't been in Camelot long enough to indulge in a round of clothes washing since her arrival. Plus, the use of two alternative outfits left little opportunity for such activity, and she had found that the patrons of the Rising Sun cared little for the cleanliness of her outfits anyway.

"I've arrived in town recently. I'm working in one of the town's taverns."

"Is that so? Hmmm." The unfriendly-looking wench retorted, getting back to nattering with her comrades and straining over the ample wool skirts she had left to soak.

Ardena untied her bundle and started washing the green dress, wondering whether the fine fabric would withstand a thorough wash. She surmised that the castle launderers had to wash them anyway from time to time, and that, if she used a little soap and not too much elbow grease, she'd be able to get it back to its rightful owner in quasi-pristine condition.

All the women had gone quiet and were now watching Ardena in silence. Glancing around her to distract herself from their scrutiny, she noticed two figures standing on the battlement and, as sure as spring follows winter, she knew who those billowing red cloaks belonged to. Keen to put an end to the silent treatment she had to withstand, she started singing, hoping that her tune would be carried by the wind to the ears of the only person she would ever love and trust.

* * *

"Leon?"

Prince Arthur couldn't decide whether Sir Leon was tensing further or starting to relax. He too could hear the melody carried by the wind which seemed to have thrown the knight into a trance-like state, his eyes set on some distant place in the lower town. Squinting, he tried to make out what the tall man was looking at, but to no avail.

Sir Leon started to hum to himself, undistinguishable words forming on his lips but never quite turning into words. Emotions were obviously bubbling under the surface yet the knight's stance didn't let out anything as to what they were or what was going on in his mind. Arthur turned around, resting his back against the low wall and setting his elbows into the crenulation sill to better look at his second in command.

Sir Leon's jaw was clenched tightly, his hands crunched up into fists, pushing against the wall ledge. The wind battered his face, sending his wavy locks flying around. The prince wasn't sure whether the tears that were forming in the knight's eyes were caused by the strength of the wind or some other cause, and wouldn't ascertain which it was unless Sir Leon provided the answer, lest he'd embarrass him.

It was however in his power, and rather legitimate, to enquire about the tune which still reached them in dribs and drabs, and Arthur did so as plainly as he could.

"It's a folk song about a boater who made many promises to a young girl but never fulfilled them, preferring a life of adventures to that she'd hoped for. She remains faithful to her love for him, but knows he won't come back."

"That's rather sad." answered the Prince.

To his surprise, Sir Leon flinched, guilt tracing premature lines at the corner of his blue eyes carrying a burden known to their owner alone. They had seen too much, too early, and Arthur couldn't even start to fathom all they had witnessed in their time. If only the knight would accept his offer of friendship and open up… He'd make an effort to understand and not to judge. Arthur knew that most people considered him impatient and thoughtless. But he wasn't his father, and tried ever so hard to be the better man, if only to be worthy of the pride and respect others had in him.

"It is indeed. It's quite popular in the countryside." Sir Leon broke the silence and breathed in deeply, his neck twisting awkwardly to cross Arthur's gaze before carrying on.

"Why is it that, no matter how hard we try, we are always a disappointment in the eyes of those who are dearest to us?" he asked quietly as the song gained in intensity again.

Arthur had no answer to that, although he had asked himself the same thing a few times in the past. He knew by now that there was no point in trying to gain his father's approval, partly because he would never quite reach it, and partly because he knew he should not seek it, for he would only be able to achieve it through harsh words, rash actions and fear.

Once more, the young man was surprised by the knight's wisdom and how not so different their lives were. How come he hadn't noticed it earlier? How come they weren't closer friends in the first place?

Arthur's interest had been picked, and he now wanted to know what hid behind those guilt-ridden crow's feet and long lines ploughed into the older man's brow. He could see that their non-conversation wasn't going anywhere. He would give it one last shot, one last opportunity for Sir Leon to share his burden.

"It's Ardena singing, isn't it?"

Sir Leon sniggered. "You are most perceptive this morning, sire."

The bite in the retort didn't escape Arthur. In all those years, it was the first time he witnessed such bitterness and cynicism in the knight. The prince realised he may have stepped too far. Pushing himself off the ledge with the palms of his hands, he headed back towards the low wooden door that opened onto steep, dark, serpentine stairs.

He was grasping the worm-eaten door frame, ducking to fit under the lintel, when Sir Leon spoke again.

"I had it all and I lost it all. How could that ever happen?"

Surprised by the sudden revelation, Arthur startled, and banged his head against the lintel. Swivelling to look at the knight, he ruffled his hair to lessen the pain of the blow, waiting for the knight to continue. And so Leon did. In a most unexpected way.

"Arthur," he started, "how much would you be ready to give up for Guinevere?"

Arthur stilled, his hand frozen midway through his tousled hair. In a whisper, he gave Sir Leon the answer he had been expecting, and half dreading.

"Everything."

"Then you are a better man than I will ever be."

The prince sniggered. "I seriously doubt so."

Arthur walked back towards the knight, stopping by his side, looking at the world going by below them.

"How many people know, Leon?"

The corners of the knight's mouth crunched up into an amused smile.

"Just me, I think. And Merlin, I guess."

"I see. Great powers of observation and all that?"

"Something like that." Leon answered with a hint of self-derision.

Silence fell again between them, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as before. Sir Leon had pushed the boundaries of their friendship just a bit further, admitting to know more about the prince than met the eye, and coming close to revealing more of himself. The ball was in Arthur's camp now, and the knight's jaw clenched as he waited patiently for the prince to talk. Arthur picked up on the other's stiffened gait.

"So what was it that you refused to give up?"

Sir Leon smiled. A sad smile, devoid of joy, full of guilt and regrets.

"That." His head nodded vaguely at the hustle and bustle of the street below them.

Arthur frowned, a bit confused.

"You realise the lower town was never yours, don't you, Leon?"

The knight snorted, unable to repress the laughter that built up in his chest. Arthur sure had learnt how to release the tension in awkward situations.

"Oh, I would never dream of coveting what's yours already, your highness." He emphasized the last word ever so slightly and had the cheek to curtsy a little.

"Don't push it, Leon." Arthur replied with a smile. "What did you mean?"

"If I hadn't come to Camelot in the first place, none of this would have happened. I'd be married and ruling over a couple of small villages at the far end of the kingdom. I'd be happy. Maybe."

At this near admission, it dawned on Arthur that the bond between the knight and Ardena was probably much deeper than met the eye. "What happened?"

Sir Leon sighed. "I was sent to Camelot to become a knight. It was a big opportunity. And I was only too happy to escape my father's rule."

Arthur nodded in ascent. Lord Alfric's ruthlessness and bad temper were notoriously famous. The prince had often wondered how his son had turned to be such a nice man in comparison.

"There was so much to do, so much to learn and experience when I arrived here… I never found the time to go back. And no one ever told me… If I had known, I would have…"

Noticing words were failing Sir Leon, Arthur patted him on the shoulder.

"Sounds like a long story, Leon. We've got about an hour before the council meeting starts. What about we go back to my chambers and you can finish your tale. I'll get Merlin to bring us some mead and I'll tell you all about my infatuation for the lovely Guinevere."

The knight smiled. Arthur was bestowing him a great honour, and dismissing it as a casual gathering. Turning round he followed Arthur towards the stairs.

"That would be very nice, indeed. Thanks, sire."

"Arthur."

"What?"

"You can call me Arthur."

Sir Leon felt a wave of pride swell in his chest. At that moment, he was proud to serve under the young prince, and to call him a friend. He knew that only a chosen few were allowed to use the prince's name. Guinevere was surely one, and so was Merlin.

Merlin. A thought formed into Sir Leon's mind and left his lips before he had time to check himself.

"Arthur? Did you ask Merlin to look after me?"

"No. Why? Did he bother you in any way? I tell you, one day, I'll have to teach him…"

"No! No. He's done nothing wrong. Don't worry, it's of no consequence."

"Alright." answered Arthur, slightly puzzled. "Now let's go and have a drink, shall we?"

Leon gestured his agreement and proceeded after him down the low and narrow stairs.

As they did so, neither saw the squadron being directed down to the lower town by a wench with a wet skirt hem. Neither noticed that the melancholic song had abruptly come to an end, only to be replaced by a clamour. And as they shared drinks and memories, oblivious to the world around them, neither knew that down in the lower town, a life was being turned upside down again.


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: Thank you to all who reviewed or added this story to their favourites. I'm sorry it took so long to get the next chapter out, but I'm afraid I've had a lot on my plate recently, and it doesn't look like it's going to get better anytime so thanks in advance for your patience. **_

_**This chapter was originally going to be longer, but I don't want to delay this any longer, so what was to be the last part of this chapter will now be next chapte.**_

* * *

The guards' boots resounded ominously on the icy path to the washhouse. Had their appearance not been so ominous and frightening for most of the Camelotians roaming the streets, their march down the main street could have been mistaken for something akin to a circus parade, as a big bosomy woman trotted in front of them, lifting her skirts to keep up with the pace of the chainmail-clad guards, thus displaying a set of very fat and veiny ankles for all to see. She pointed accusingly towards the basin in which half a dozen women were still brushing and wringing their clothes clean.

Ardena looked up to see what all the fuss what about, the melancholy tune she had been singing dying on her lips.

"Her", the matron indicated again, this time very obviously in the slender woman's direction.

The unconcealed accusation in the wench's voice was unequivocal, and sent a shiver of dread down her spine. Ardena hurriedly gathered the two dresses and wrung them quickly, so they wouldn't drip everywhere on her skirt in this freezing weather. She then made to get up, but was interrupted by the guards, who moved in a circle around her and thrust their shiny swords forward at her, no doubt in an attempt to intimidate her.

Although Ardena didn't understand why she was being targeted in this way, she could see very clearly that they meant business, and the squadron leader's voice sent her heart racing when it boomed through the place.

"Drop the dresses, and lift your hands up very slowly, so we can see them."

Ardena looked at her wash load with a twinge of heartache. She had managed to clean them thoroughly and wasn't in the least eager to drop them and get them dirty again. She crouched as slowly as she could and, untying her thin apron, laid it out on the floor before placing the sodden clothes on top. She then stood up slowly and lifted her hands slightly above her shoulders as requested.

Still out of breath, the apoplectic matron, evidently thrilled by the kerfuffle she had managed to stir and giddy with her new found self-importance, started barking accusingly again and bouncing with excitement.

"See!" she pointed at the clothes again. "It's a servant's outfit and a dress that belongs to the Lady Morgana".

"How can you be sure?" asked the man in charge of the small group of guards.

"It's easy, Sir. You see, a while back, my youngest started takin' sewin' lessons with the Lady Morgana's maid, who lives in the forge."

A couple of guards behind Ardena sniggered unceremoniously as they noticed the fat woman curtsied every time she was addressing their leader or mentioning the Lady Morgana's name.

"Adele... That's my daughter, Sir", she curtsied again, as the quiet giggle turned into a much louder snort.

"Well, Adele said that when she was learning to darn socks and the like, Gwen, that's the maid's name, sir…" She curtsied again, as the guards abandoned all efforts to hide their amusement. "...Well, Gwen was working on a new dress for the Lady Morgana and…"

At this point, as she curtsied again, the two guards erupted in laughter. The woman's eyes turned to two vicious slits as the squadron leader berated his subordinates for their untimely and inappropriate reaction.

"Please continue", he gestured to the pig-faced woman.

"Well, the dress she described looks just like the one that girl there was cleaning a moment ago." She finished flatly, disappointed that the guards had stolen her thunder and tarnished her moment of glory.

The crowd around the washhouse became silent and still, waiting expectantly for the squadron leader's reaction.

The man got closer to Ardena, lifted his arm and waved two fingers, his eyes never leaving the young woman who stood behind the drenched, frosty clothes gathered in a heap. All swords were immediately lowered, but not sheathed, Ardena noted.

Before he could talk or act in any way, a smaller, mousy woman exclaimed:

"She said she works at one of the taverns, you should send your men to check. I bet she's lying and plotting against king and kingdom!"

"Yes!" agreed the blotchy woman who had brought him to the washhouse. "We lot won't put up with spies, plotters and lewd women."

"We're no longer safe in our own houses!" started a third woman, still on her knees, grappling with undergarments of tent-like proportions, "we've noticed the king's reduced the number of patrols in our streets. He doesn't care much for our safety. For all we know, there could be sorcerer's in our midst!"

All three women pulled fear-stricken faces, slapping their palms against their cheeks and mouths in horror at the thought.

"She's a witch!" one of the women whispered before hiding behind her fat friend, as if expecting to be cursed or annihilated where she stood.

Behind then, the other men and women assembled concurred and started chanting "Witch! witch!", spitting and cursing in her direction. The situation was escalating way beyond that of a small incident. If the guards didn't take care, they would end up with a full riot on their hands, and there clearly weren't enough of them to deal with an event on that scale.

To be fair to the townspeople, they were right in thinking the king had scaled down the number of patrols in the lower town, thought the squadron leader. But to be fair to the king, it wasn't because of a lack of concern for his subjects, it was mainly driven by the fact that guard and knight numbers had been depleted by the recent attacks on the kingdom and the losses incurred in the search for the Lady Morgana.

Grabbing the edge of his cloak and draping it across his arm, the knight rolled his eyes sighed noticeably, glancing apologetically at the young woman in front of him. Now he couldn't just ask the accused what her side of the story was, he'd have to send the guards to check out on the girl's whereabouts and refer the matter to higher instances, as she had been publicly accused of sorcery.

Ardena understood her predicament fairly well if the knight's sorry eyes were anything to go by, but she was surprised nevertheless as he signalled and two guards grabbed her forcefully by the arms and all but dragged her away towards the castle.

Behind her, the rest of the squadron scattered in all direction, no doubt to check up on all of the town's alehouses in search of elusive proof of her crimes.

* * *

"And that", Arthur managed between two fits of laughter and a mouthful of sweet wine, "is how I managed to escape the wrath of Lord Oldor and the not-so-subtle attentions of Lady Elizabeth."

Sir Leon snorted and nearly choked on his own drink. He hadn't had such a pleasant time in ages, let alone with his Prince. Maybe it was the strength of the sweet wine, or the fact that he had been deprived from real, honest, friendly human contact for so long, but the knight hadn't felt so at ease in ages.

He briefly wondered how their new-found friendship would affect his professional relations with the Prince, but just pushed the idea aside in the knowledge that his natural deference for authority figures would take over as soon as the drinks ran dry.

As promised, Arthur had led him down to his chambers, where he had hollered at a passing servant to get him some drinks, and had started providing Sir Leon with a detailed account of his adventures in the realms of far-away king and queens, as well as his boundless veneration of the sweet Guinevere. Although Sir Leon couldn't quite see why the prince was so besotted with the maid, he kept his thoughts to himself and let Arthur praise her looks and extol her virtues never-endingly. Who was he to judge which lady the prince should choose when he himself had caused so much trouble listening to his own heart.

Just as the cups dried up again, someone knocked on the door, and Merlin's smiley, dishevelled head appear in the interstice.

"Arthur…" Realising that Arthur had company, the manservant's cheeky grin became more subservient and polite. "Sires, the Council will start soon. I was sent to remind you that your presence is required."

The Prince swatted the air with his hand, as if to shoo away a persistent bug. "Merlin, you don't have to…", he gestured again, "do that. It's just Sir Leon. I'm sure he can put up with your total lack of timing and respect for your betters".

Although in anyone else's mouth this could have be construed as an insult, or at least a way to chastise a bad servant, Sir Leon could hear the warmth and teasing playfulness in Arthur's voice. The master and the servant seemed to have forged a bond unequalled in the kingdom. Maybe their similar age and stature, and the circumstances in which they had been paired had played a role, but, regardless of the reasons, their relationship was a wonder to many, although no one would dare debating publicly on the subject.

Merlin's lips had tightened at Arthur's words, and he nodded, his head disappearing behind the door again.

"Merlin!" Sir Leon shouted a bit belatedly at the door.

The servant reappeared almost immediately, slightly nonplussed.

"Yes, sire?"

"Could I have a word with you? In private?"

This time, Merlin stepped fully into view, swaying from one foot to the next, as if uncomfortable. Sir Leon's thoughts wandered in Arthur's direction, hoping the prince would forgive him this lack of formality and due protocol.

"Leon, has Merlin done anything I should be aware of? Anything to offend you? I promise you I'll put him in the stocks if he lacked respect or anything…"

"No, that won't be necessary" answered the knight. He hoped he had put enough cordiality behind the words that the servant wouldn't feel threatened. He added a smile for good measure. After all, they said a smile goes a long way…

Since Sir Leon had summoned the servant, his eyes had stayed locked with Merlin's, as if in a secret game of eye wrestling. Looking from one to the other, Arthur assessed the situation. Merlin's shoulders were tense, but not overly so, and his face was stern, but displayed neither anger nor shame. The boy was slightly bewildered and worried, but Sir Leon's relaxed and smiley stance confirmed that, whatever it was that Sir Leon wanted from the servant, it was nothing untoward.

"Right, I'll errrr…. head off to the meeting then. Merlin, when you're done, just take the cups away and lock my chambers. And then I _do_ expect you to join me in the Council Room."

Merlin sighed heavily. "But it's hellishly tedious!"

Arthur replied with a slightly evil grin "Yes! And that's exactly why I want you there. Why should I be the only one to feel the pain inflicted by Geoffrey's never ending speeches on crop reserve levels?"

"Umm, Arthur? Those are my speeches…" Sir Leon interrupted bashfully.

"Oh!" The prince squirmed, much to Merlin's delight apparently. "Anyway, I'd better go… Leon, don't be too long, I wouldn't want you to miss my father's blather on the state of the kingdom and the lack of enthusiasm of a certain heir of his to find a wife."

With this, Arthur winked at the knight and disappeared into the darkness of the corridor, leaving a very uneasy Merlin standing in front of the knight.

"So, you wanted to talk to me?" He wrung his hands, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

This was awkward, the knight thought. He didn't want to make Merlin uncomfortable.

"Take a seat, Merlin." He offered, pointing at the chair Arthur had just vacated with a wave of his hand.

"I can't."

"What do you mean, you can't?"

"These are Arthur's chambers. He's my master; I'm not allowed to sit in his chair unless he asks me to. It wouldn't be… proper. Anyway, you're a knight; I guess I shouldn't really be seated in your presence anyway." He paused, gauging Sir Leon with an inquisitive eye. "What can I do for your, sire?" He bowed slightly, almost deferentially.

Sir Leon was slightly taken aback. Not that he should have been surprised, really; this was the way servants were meant to behave, after all. But this was Merlin, and he had long acquired a reputation for the way he publicly spoke to Arthur, and the fact that the Prince didn't seem to mind his bold irreverence.

"Uh…" he started, still unsure how best to proceed.

Merlin bit back a snort, but Sir Leon couldn't help but see how amused he was.

"So much for the eloquence of the great knights of Camelot!" the servant mumbled to himself.

"Merlin!" Sir Leon snapped back, a bit affronted. He knew he wasn't a great orator, but didn't like being reminded of his failings and certainly not by a mere servant.

Merlin's stance stiffened, no doubt feeling guilty at being overheard. "I'm sorry sire. I didn't mean to offend you. How can I help?" he repeated, his blue eyes suddenly meeting with the knight's. "If we don't get to the bottom of this quickly, you are going to be late to the council meeting, sire."

Sir Leon stood, feeling uneasy having to look up to the boy to address him.

"Right, er… I don't know… " he sighed heavily, for want of the right words again. "I just wanted to ask you about something I noticed."

"Fire away", the young man smiled back.

Sir Leon breathed deeply and asked in one go. "I noticed the wood basket in my room seems to have replenished itself several times recently, and I wondered if you may know anything about that."

"I might do", Merlin supplied uneasily.

"I wish you wouldn't" replied Sir Leon. His response was hissy and slightly harsher than he had intended, but the servant recoiled at the spiteful tone. "I have never needed the help of a servant and I do not require your services, no matter how good your intentions."

Bracing his palm against the door, unaware he was blocking Merlin's exit path, Sir Leon realised how tough and insensitive he must have sounded when the servant uttered a very quiet apology, busying himself by gathering the cups in his hands and hooking the wine jug over the longest finger of his right hand.

He made his way to the main door, but Sir Leon hadn't moved, still unaware he was in the way.

"I'm sorry, Merlin. I'm sure you had the best of intentions but it really wasn't…"

"It's just…" Merlin winced as he realised he had interrupted the knight and that his opinion had not been bestowed. Arthur may have put up with it, but Sir Leon was, well, chivalrous and hell-bent on the knight's code, and apparently totally opposed to servants filling his wood basket in their spare time.

Sir Leon waved evasively to spur him on.

"Well, first you were injured, and there was no one to look after you so…"

"Did Arthur ask you to watch over me?" Sir Leon cried in horror.

"No!" Merlin retorted, apparently similarly horrified at that thought. "Well, only when you were bed-ridden. And after that, I just… thought you could do with the help. There was no one around to get the wood up and bring meals, so I thought…"

"But it's demeaning! Skulking about to scrub the floor while I'm out, creeping in to tidy up and stoke the fire… It's… " The knight shook his head and frowned in revulsion, his words bitter and scornful as they left his tongue.

"It's a job, sire!" Merlin shouted angrily. He bit his lip and immediately lowered his tone, aware that he had overstepped the limits of propriety. "It's _my_ job, sire. We can't all be saving the prince's hide every time he goes for a hunt." The servant smiled at that last retort, as if it contained some kind of joke Sir Leon wasn't privy to.

"I know you knights and noblemen don't understand this, but I'm not ashamed of being a servant. It brings food to my plate and a roof over my head. Yes, I'll never be remembered in history books, I'll never have glory and fame and all those things you men of higher birth long for, but I live a decent hardworking life, whatever Arthur may tell you about it. I'm a good man, and I won't let anyone, noble or not, telling me otherwise."

"I'm sorry, Merlin. I really didn't mean to offend you. I just wish that...", Sir Leon replied embarrassedly before being interrupted again by Merlin. But the servant was far from done with his rant.

"At least I don't spend my time pretending to fight other noblemen with sharp sticks. And anyway, I don't see why…" Merlin anger was still simmering steadily, but a new glint of understanding appeared in his eyes. He cocked his head to one side, seeking to confirm his inkling by a thorough scrutinising of Sir Leon's face.

"You just don't see you, do you?" he asked, half-intrigued and half-irritated.

"Listen, Merlin… I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I just wish that no one should ever find themselves in your situation" Although he was the one barring Merlin's way, the knight suddenly felt cornered under a gaze bluer and more piercing than he'd ever encountered before. He squirmed and pursued, trying to make his meaning more explicit. "I mean, I don't think it's fair on anyone to have to serve anyone else. I don't have a servant because I don't think anyone should ever have to be considered so inferior to me that they are only fit to wait on me and stand behind me, watching my every move, rather than sit and enjoy a companionable drink with me." Unable to find better words to convey his meaning, he looked expectantly at the other man, searching for understanding in his bright gaze.

"You just don't see it." Merlin smiled, full of a knowledge Sir Leon' could only guess at, and continued his own diatribe, although the knight's cautious explanation had softened his tone.

"You're depriving an honest man of a job, preventing a young farm boy or butcher's son from doing something useful and getting to know someone with a bit more clout than their parents. Yes, it's hard work, and it can be demeaning at times and there are days where I wish I wouldn't have to carry endless buckets up and down stairs because some royal dollop-head wants a hot bath at the end of a long day spent play fighting or hunting, but it's an honest job and I'm not ashamed of being a servant."

"I never meant to…"

"I think I ought to tell you though…" Merlin paused, and lifted his eyes towards the taller man, almost daringly but more tentatively than before. His voice became a lot softer, and a lot quieter, with something akin to sadness lingering in the lower tones.

"What?" Sir Leon's eyes narrowed, intrigued.

Merlin shifted nervously, the tankards clanking loudly in his arms.

"May I speak freely, Sire?"

Sir Leon chuckled. "As if you've ever asked that before making your opinion known, Merlin..."

The servant lips hardened into a thin line, half way between guilt and exasperation. When he parted them again, his tone became more placating and slightly supplicating.

"I understand how you feel now, but that's not the way things work around here. There are you nobles…" he drew one hand away, fisting around the cups to maintain their precarious balance "…and us servants and peasants and lower town folk" He pulled his other hand apart to demonstrate, dropping a beaker which went clattering noisily upon the pristine floor. It filled the silence, forcing Merlin to pause. He looked at the tankard briefly before twisting back towards Sir Leon, no doubt judging that his explanation wasn't worth interrupting to retrieve the stray cup.

"And that's pretty much the way it is. But trying to be a better man and show other noblemen that you can do without a servant isn't helping, Sire." His eyes drifted up to Sir Leon's face. The knight was looking attentively and, Merlin realised, with a certain dose of respect befitting an equal. "At the end of the day, you do your best to get your own meals, and stoke your fire, and sort out your own chambers and the castle staff knows this and respects you for it. But they also know that there are a lot of other things you don't do, and they share out this extra burden amongst them. Cook always ensures Winifred puts a tray together for you, and keeps it by the fire so the food doesn't get cold too quickly, Imelda picks up your laundry on her way home and drops it at the laundry house where the knights' servants take it in turn to wash them (well, it's almost always Alvin who draws the short straw, but that's just pure luck if you ask me). And we also take it in turn to ensure your floor is scrubbed, your armour polished reasonably regularly and your bed sheets changed every once in a while. We make sure your horse is properly tended to, as well, because some of the stable boys are a bit lazy when they know no one will check the work too thoroughly. So, in the end, you have an army of servants, all taking it upon themselves to go beyond their own duties, to get up a bit earlier or go home a bit later, so you can continue to pretend you can live without a servant. They don't get any recognition and don't look for any, but now you know that these things have a cost, and that you're not the one paying it."

Silence fell between the two men and neither was inclined to dissipate it. Merlin's his muscles tensed in utter panic, his mind realising at once how inappropriate his behaviour had been. As for Sir Leon, his face was inscrutable, his mind hard at work to fully comprehend what the servant had just told him.

"That's…" The knight stuttered, unable to get his head round the fact that he'd never noticed any of it. "I... Thank you, Merlin. For being honest with me." He wanted his voice to be reassuring and devoid of any disapproval, but the servant started again to squirm uneasily, as if taken by a sudden urge to run out of the room. Instead, much to Sir Leon's surprise, he addressed Sir Leon again.

"Please don't tell Arthur… about what I said." His eyes suddenly shifted to the floor and his shoulders hiked up as if anticipating a blow.

"About which bit?" Sir Leon smirked. "The royal dollophead, the sharp sticks and play-fighting or the whole "Sir Leon is a nuisance to servants" part?" Sir Leon didn't know whether to laugh it off or be offended at the servant's total lack of respect for his stature. However, the poor lad looked so crestfallen that it was difficult not to pity him and find his whole predicament somewhat humorous.

Merlin bit his lower lip, and hung his head as low and submissively as he could, aware that any other knight would probably have sent him straight to the stocks, or worse, had him flogged for such a lack of respect. But Sir Leon wasn't like them, and Merlin let out a sigh of relief when the knight opened the door and reminded him that Arthur had asked him to attend the Council Meeting before straddling away in the deserted corridor.


End file.
